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THE 


NINETEEN  TRAGEDIES 


AND 


FRAGMENTS 


OF 


EURIPIDES- 

TRANSLATED 

BY    MICHAEL    WODHULL,    ESQ, 

A  NEW  EDITION, 

CORRECTED  THROUGHOUT   BY  THE  TRANSLATOR. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  I. 


LONDON : 

PRINTED  FOR  JOHN  WALKER ;  T.  PAYNE  ;  YERNOR,  HOOD,  &  SHARPS; 

R.LEA;    3,  NUNN  ;  CUTHELL   &  MARTIN;   E;  JEFFERY  ;    LONGMAN, 

HURST,  REE8,  AND  ORME  ;  LACKINGTON,  ALLEN,  6c  CO. ;  J.  BOOKER; 

J.    RICIL4RDSON;    BLACK,     PARRY,  &    KINGSBURY;     J.  FAULDER ; 

J.  ASPERNE;  AND  J.  HARRIS. 

1809. 


£.  Biackader,  Friiuer,  Took*«  Court,  Cbaiiccry  Lxne. 


\'H-^l 


PREFACE. 


■  \ 


EuRiPiDKS   was  borri  in  the  island  of^alamis, 
in  the  seventy-fifth  Olympiad ;  his  parents  Mne» 
sarchus  and  Clito  having  retired  thither  from 
Athens  at  the  time  that  city  was  menaced  by  the 
powerful   armament  of  Xerxes.     Historians  are 
by  no  means  agreed  as  to  the  rank  of  our  Poet's 
Father  and  Mother :  the  proofs  which  some  en- 
deavour to  adduce  of  their  nobility  do  not  appear 
by  any  means  convincing ;  and   if  we  admit  the 
oracle  of  Apollo  to  have  been  consulted  by  them 
during  the  pregnancy  of  Clito,    in  regard  to  the 
fortunes  of  their  future  Child,  as  an  attention  to 
the  voice  of  soothsayers  is  by  no  means  peculiar 
to  those  of  high  birth  or  afHuence,  it  might  be 
too  precipitate  to  conclude  from  thence,    with 
Bayle,  either  that  her  station  in  life  was  superior 
to  that  of  a6  herb- woman,  or  that  the  distressed 
circumstances  of  her  Husband  were  not  amon^ 
bis  principal  motives  for  changing  the  place  of 
his  abode.     But  whatever  may  have  been  the 
rank  or  occupation  of   Mnesarchus  and  Clito, 
they  appear  to  have  possessed  the  honourable  title 
of  free-born  citizens  of  Athens. 

The  day  on  which  Euripides  came  into  the 
world  was  peculiarly  auspicious  to  his  country, 
VOL.  I.  a 


ii  PREFACE, 

being  that  of  the  Greeks'  obtaining  a  decisive  vic- 
tory over  the  Persian  fleet,  an  event,  to  which 
he  is  supposed  by  Barnes  and  the  ablest  critics  to 
have  alluded,  in  his  description  of  the  sacred  ta- 
pestry with  which  Ion  decorated  the  tent  he 
erected  at  Delphi ;  a  gross  breach  of  chronology 
it  must  be  owned,  but  such  as  the  spirit  of  na- 
tional glory  I. as  always  been  found  not  only  to  ex- 
cuse, but  applaud  in  a  dramatic  writer. 

In  his  youth,  Euripides  was  brought  up  to 
the  gymnastic  exercises ;  he  moreover  acquired 
sufiicient  knowledge  in  painting  to  be  considered 
as  one  of  the  antient  artists  by  the  writers  who 
have  treated  on  that  subject:  but  he  gave  early 
hopes  of  becoming  more  distinguished  by  his 
philosophical  studies,  and  continued  to  be  a  pu- 
pil of  Anaxagoras,  whose  lessons  he  attended 
with  great  assiduity,  till  finding  his  master  ex- 
posed to  persecution  from  his  ardent  search  after 
wisdom,  and  in  imminent  danger  of  losing  bis 
life,  he  at  about  the  age  of  eighteen  applied  him^- 
self  to  Dramatic  Poetry ;  but  amidst  these  more 
attractive  employments  was  never  unmindful  of 
the  strict  precepts  which  he  had  imbibed  in  his 
tender  years :  the  attachment  to  real  virtue  so 
strongly  displayed  in  his  writings,  and  his  inva- 
riable enmity  to  every  species  of  Tyranny  and  Su- 
perstition, have  secured  to  him  that  applause 
which  mere  genius  is  incapable  of  attaining; 
and  it  is  with  justice  that  he  is  considered  by 
posterity  as   one  of  those  few  real  Sages  wh# 


PREFACE.  Hi 

have  indeed  employed  fiction,  but  employed  it 
principally  as  a  vehicle  for  the  noblest  truths. 
That  Euripides  did  not,  with  the  garb  and  pro- 
fession, by  any  means  lay  aside  the  study  of  Phi- 
losophy, is  apparent,  not  only  from  the  whole 
tenour  of  his  works,  but  from  the  well-known  in- 
timacy  of  his  friendship  with  the  immortal  So- 
crates ;  nor  can  it  be  unseasonable  here  to  ob- 
serve, that  his  superior  success  in  the  attempts 
he  made  to  instruct  mankind,  may  be  attributed 
to  his  having  artfully  blended  the  lessons  he  gave 
to  his  countrymen  with  interesting  tales  of  Gods 
and  Heroes,  and  formed  an  admirable  com- 
bination of  amusement  with  the  most  whole- 
some precepts  that  ever  dignified  the  strain  of 
the  moral  Muse. 

The  events  transmitted  to  us  of  Euripides's 
life,  though  extended  to  no  inconsiderable  length 
by  Barnes  and  Bayle,  are  very  few  in  number ; 
and  we  may  collect  from  thence,  that  he  passed 
most  of  his  days  in  that  unambitious  retirement 
from  public  affairs,  which  is  the  usual  sphere  of  a 
man  deeply  engaged  in  literary  pursuits :  the  bio- 
graphers record  that  he  was  twice  married,  and 
proved  each  time  so  unsuccessful  in  his  choice, 
that  his  frequently  speaking  in  harsh  terms  of  the 
female  sex  may  in  a  great  measure  be  ascribed  to 
domestic  grievances^  and  the  licentious  conduct 
of  his  Wives,  to  whom  they  also  impute  his  leav- 
ing Athens  at  an  advanced  age,  and  going  to  the 
court  of  Archelaus  king  of  Macedon,   by  whom 

a2 


IT  PREFACE. 

be  was  received  with  distingaished  bonoars.  Af- 
ter residing  at  Pella  about  tbree  year%  be  came 
to  an  unfortunate  end  :  tbe  general  account  is, 
tbat  be  was  torn  to  pieces  by  bounds ;  but  tbe 
circumstances  of  bis  deatb  are  variously  repre- 
sented ;  some  have  ascribed  it  to  tbe  malice  of 
bis  enemies,  oibers  to  mere  accident,  and  suppose 
tbat  bis  meditations  caused  bim  to  wander  too  far 
into  a  wood  :  be  appears,  at  the  time  tbis  cala- 
mity befel  bim,  to  bave  been  more  tban  seventy 
years  old 

Arcbelaus  caused  tbe  remains  of  tbe  Tragic 
Bard  to  be  interred  at  Pella  with  great  funereal 
magnificence.  No  sooner  did  tbe  account  of  bis 
deatb  reach  Athens,  than  he  was  universdly  la- 
mented by  his  countrymen;  Sophocles,  like  a 
generous  rival,  appeared  drest  in  mourning,  and 
introduced  his  actors  on  the  stage  without  ^r- 
lands.  The  road  leading  from  the  city  to  tbe 
Piraeus,  was  the  spot  pitched  upon  by  tbe  Athe- 
nians for  erecting  a  monument  in  honour  of  Euri- 
pides. Though  the  pieces  he  composed  were 
numerous,  heing  according  to  some  writers 
seventy-five,  and  according  to  others  ninety-two, 
Moschopulus  says  he  gained  only  five  prizes,  four, 
while  living,  and  one  after  his  death :  some  years, 
however,  before  he  retired  to  Macedon,  Plutarch 
relates,  in  his  Life  of  Nicias,  that  several  Athe- 
nian soldiers  whom  the  Sicilians  had  taken 
prisouers;  by  repeating  to  their  conquerors 
some  verses  of  Euripides,  obtained  the  kindest 


PREFACF.  V 

treatment,  aiid  a  speedy  release  from  their  cap- 
tivity. 

Longinus  celebrates  Euripides  for  his  peculiar 
excellence  in  describing  Love  and  Madness : 
talents  for  moving  pity  in  a  superior  degree  to 
any  other  dramatic  writer,  have  been  with  one 
consent  allowed  to  be  his  characteristic.  Quin- 1 
tilian  recommends  his  Tragedies  in  the  strongest 
terms  to  pleaders  at  the  bar ;  and  it  would  here  ' 
be  easy  to  fill  many  pages  with  testimonies  highly 
honourable  to  him,  both  from  the  antients  and 
moderns :  but  the  merits  of  Euripides  are  so 
generally  known,  that  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
enter  on  a  minute  discussion  of  them,  being  sen- 
sible that  the  translator  of  a  favourite  Author  is 
of  all  men  least  adequate  to  the  province  of  iixji- 
partial  Criticism. 

A  considerable  portion  of  my  time  has  for 
several  years  been  employed  in  either  forming  or 
revising  this  version,  which  I  submit  to  the  deci- 
sion of  the  Public,  and  am  by  no  means  sanguipe 
in  my  hopes  of  its  success  :  but  whatever  recep- 
tion this  undertaking  may  meet  with,  I  i^hall 
never  be  b;'Ought  to  consider  any  labours  as  utterly 
fruitless  which  have  introduced  me  to  a  more 
intimate  knowledge  of  these  valuable  remains  of 
antiquity,  than  I  should  otherwise  in  all  probabi** 
lity  have  acquired.  Such  a  search  as  seemed  ab- 
solutely necessary  into  most  of  the  comments 
and  various  readings,  poured  in  abundantly  from 


vi  PREFACE. 

•every  quarter,  very  considerably  retarded  my  pro- 
gress, but  has  not  been  without  its  use,  in  ena- 
bling me  to  rectify  some  material  errors  which  had 
escaped  notice :  after  all  the  circumspection  I 
have  made  use  of,  the  number  of  my  inaccuracies 
will  I  fear  be  found  considerable,  and  would 
inevitably  have  been  much  greater,  but  for  the 
kindness  of  those  learned  Friends  who  have  taken 
the  trouble  of  comparing  my  translation  with  the 
original,  in  passages  where  the  Author's  sense 
seemed  most  dubious*  Another  Gentleman,  who 
died  about  six  yjsars  ago,  leaving  those  who  had 
the  happiness  of  knowing  him  every  reason  to 
regret  his  less,  favoured  me  at  an  early  period 
with  sonae  useful  remarks  on  my  version  of  the 
Orestes,  and  agreed  with  me  that  the  subjoining 
to  it  a  short  History  of  the  House  of  Tantalus 
might  be  of  service,  towards  making  events  with 
which  the  greater  part  of  Euripides's  Tragedies 
have  some  degree  of  connection,  better  known  to 
such  readers  as  are  not  intimatqly  conversant 
with  the  mythological  records  of  those  times,  than 
coiild  have  beep  done  by  splitting  what  is  there 
collected  into  a  variety  of  detached  notes. 

As  for  jany  help  beyond  what  is  already  men- 
tioned, I  have  had  no  coadjutor,  either  in  the 
translation  or  notes,  some  of  which  I  am  sensible 
will  to  many  be  uninteresting,  but  are  inserted 
through  a  mere  principle  of  self-defence,  a3 
vouchers  for  my  interpretation.  The  ground- 
work on  which  I  proceeded  has  beeu  Barnes's 


PREFACE.  vii 

valuable  edition :  of  this,  as  near  ninety  yeiars 
are  novr  elapsed  since  its  publication,  I  may  be 
indulged  with  the  more  freedom  in  speaking  my 
^ntiments :  to  that  learned  Commentator  I  feel 
Hiyself  under  a  multitude  of  obligations,  which 
I  shdi  always  acknowledge  with  pleasure:  if  it 
be  objected  that  some  of  his  notes  are  prolix  and 
desultory,  it  oujht  to  be  remembered  on  the 
Cthtr  hand,  that  he  had  not  only  a  considerable 
^kill  in  terbal  criticism,  but  always  availed  him* 
self  of  extensive  reading,  aided  by  a  peculiar 
happtrtess  of  memory,  for  illustrating  the  mytho* 
logy  and  customs  of  the  Antients,  and  throwing 
the  deaf  est  light  on  some  passages  which  before 
K^erfe  cither  totally  misunderstood,  or  considered 
ad  unintelligrble.  But  such  is  the  imperfection 
of  human  capacity,  that  no  editions  are  exempt 
froitj  many  defects.  In  the  copy  of  Barnes  which 
I  made  use  of,  I  have  from  time  to  time  written 
down  on  the  margin  such  corrections  or  variations 
as  occurred  to  me  on  perusing  the  notes  of  Val- 
kertaer,  Mr.  Markland,  Dv,  Musgrave,  Mr.  Tyr^ 
H^bitt,  Bruiick,  and  others;  most  of  which,  es- 
pecially those  which  were  so  material  as  in  any 
degree  to  interest  an  English  reader,  I  afterwards 
examined  with  a  greater  degree  of^  attention  in 
revising  my  translation.  The  Index  subjoined  to 
the  third  volume  is  meant  to  assist  the  English 
reader,  and  supply  the  most  material  interpreta- 
tionii  left  deficient  in  my  notes,  which  are  some- 
times, I  perceive,  too  thinly  scattered,  especially 
in  the  Fragments. 


via  PREFACE. 

Wherever  the  antient  Editions  are  cited,  I  have 
seldom  failed  turning  to  the  passage  in  them, 
or  consulting  a  quotation  in  its  original  Author 
before  I  ventured  to  transcribe  it :  but  even  in 
these  respects  the  library  of  an  obscure  individual 
will  not  always  second  the  wishes  of  its  p^vner, 
or  enable  him  to  proceed  uoiformly  in  his  search  ; 
nor  oiust  I  omit  memtioning  amopg  its  deficiencies 
that  of  frequently  reducing  me  to  give  my  own 
version  of  lines  quoted  from  the  Poets,  because  I 
had  none  to  copy.  Jn  regard  to  Manuscripts, 
jwherever  they  are  mentioned,  I  produce  my 
vouchers,  and  am  not  able  to  say  any  thing  from 
myself:  to  such  readings,  brought  forward  by 
later  Editors,  as  are  founded  on  their  joint  con- 
currence, I  have  considered  the  utmost  deference 
as  due :  Jhese  X  am  very  happy  tp  find  are  by  far 
less  numerous  and  less  violent  in  their  operation 
than  I  had  been  taught  to  apprehend.  As  for 
mere  conjiectural  alterations,  from  whatever 
quarter  they  proceed,  or  however  eagerly  they  are 
maintained,  they  are  universally  allowed  to  be 
extremely  dangerous  auxiliaries  to  a  translator, 
unless  their  boasted  acuteness  and  ingenuity  is 
corroborated  by  a  necessity  for  th^}r  introduc- 
tion. 

At  my  first  jentrance  on  this  undertaking,  I 
did  not  extend  my  views  beyond  a  volume  of 
select  Tragedies;  but  th^  farther  I  proceeded, 
thp  more  dubious  I  found  myself  what  to  choose 
and  what  to  reject  .-'added  tp   this  mptiye,.  the 


PREFACE.  ix 

disapprobation  with  which  imperfect  editions  or 
versions  of  celebrated  writers  are  frequently  re- 
ceived by  the  Public,  determined  me,  after  makr 
ing  some  small  progress,   to  translate  the  whole : 
flor  did  the  Fragments,  consisting  of  more  than 
two  thousand  five  hundred  lines,  appear  to- me 
in  the   light    of  trivial  gleanings,    which  I   was 
at  full   liberty  to  retain  or  omit :  their  intrinsic 
merit   is  frequently  very  great,  and   so  ample  a 
callectioQ,  first  formed  and  digested  in  Barnes's 
edition,    but  having  received   many  subsequent 
improvements  and   augmentations   from   Heathy 
Falkenaer,  and  Dr.  Musgrave,  has  indisputable 
claim.)  to  the  attention  of  a  Translator.    A  whole 
Volume  of  no  inconsiderable  size  we  find  appro- 
priated by  Carmelli  to  the  Fragments  and  Index  : 
they  have  caused  some  addition  to  the  bulk,   but 
not  to  the  number,  of  my  three  volumes :  some 
few,  which  seemed  ill  calculated   for  rendering 
into  English,    I  have   omitted :  as  the  Anagram 
consisting  of  those  Greek  letters  which  form  the 
name  of  Theseus,  together  with  here  and  there 
an  imperfect  sentence,    or  such   as  was  nearly 
similar  with  what  had  already  occurred. 

It  may  not,  however,  be  superfluous  to  pre- 
'  mise,  that  among  those  invaluable  remains  of  the 
Philosophic  Bard,  which  abound  with  the  noblest 
precepts  of  morality,  the  Reader  will  find  some 
few  sentences  of  an  opposite  tendency,  supposed 
to  be  the  language  of  men  who  were  exhibited  on 
the  Athenian  stage,    not  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 


X  PREFACE. 

5e[ninating  their  blasphemous  or  immoral  senti- 
ments, but  in  order  to  strike  offenders  with  ter- 
ror by  their  signal  punishment,  as  Belleropbon, 
Sisyphus,  and  Ixion  :  it  is  with  great  injustice 
therefore  that  Plutarch  cites  one  of  these  de- 
jtached  passages,  as  shewing  the  irreligious  dis^ 
position  of  Euripides. 

I  have  retained  the  order  of  the  nineteen  Tra- 
gedies as  I  found  it  in  almost  every  Editor  and 
Translator  down  to  Dr.  Musgrave.  Canterus  has 
prefixed  to  his  edition  of  Euripides,  printed  by 
Christopher  Plantin,.  at  Antwerp,  in  1571,  a  list 
of  pieces  composed  by  the  three  Tragic  wiitt;rs  of 
Greece,  iEscbylus,  Sophocles  and  Euripides,  ar- 
ranged with  a  view  to  the  order  of  time  when  the 
events  on  which  they  are  founded  took  place. 
Brumoy  has  copied  it ;  but  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other  has  thought  fit  to  bring  it  into  practice : 
as  far  as  relates  to  Euripides,  the  £pllowing  is  the 
order  in  which  they  ^re  placed  ; 


1.  low, 

t.  Bacchanalians. 

3.  Meoea. 

4.  HiPPOLYTUS. 

5.  Alcestis. 

6.  HEltCtJLES  l!)lStfiACtED. 

7.  Ph(enician  Damsels. 

8.  Suppliants. 

9.   tPHIGENIA  IN  AULIS. 

iO»  Rhesus. 


11.  Trojan  Captivei. 
/12.  Hecuba. 

13.  Cyclops. 

14.  Children  of  Hercules. 

15.  Electra. 
>16.  Orestes. 

17.  Andromache. 

18.   IPHIGENrA  IN  TAURIS, 

19.  Helen. 


In  thg  above  catalogue,  various  inaccuracies 
may  with  ease  be  pointed  out.     Mr.  JodreU  ha$ 


PREFACE.  xi 

clearly  shewn  that  the  arrangement  of  the  twp 
first  Tragedies  ought  t,o  be  inverted  :  the  Medea, 
however,  from  the  circumstances  of  its  bearing  date 
very  soon  after  the  Argonautic  expedition,  and 
being  prior  to  the  birth  of  Theseus,  derives  ^  Utle 
to  the  third  place,  which  I  cannot  but  look  upoa 
as  satisfactory,   though  Mr.  Potter  gives  prece- 
dence to  the  Alcestis ;  the  Phoenician  Damsels  I 
would  place  fourth,  and  then  its  sequel  the  Sup- 
pliants, from  which  we  collect  that  Theseus  was 
at  that  time  still  a  young  man,  but  had  performed 
some  of  his  most  memorable  exploits  ;  that  Hero 
and  Hercules  having  been  comrades  in  arms,  the 
arrangement  of  the  pieces  which  relate  to  them  is 
in  some  degree  a  matter  of  mere  opinion ;  but 
if  the  Hippolytus  stands  sixth,  and  the  Alcestis 
and  Hercules  Distracted  foUow,    the  transactions 
of  each  of  those  illustrious  personages  will  be  pre* 
served  in  a  more  unbroken  series.     The  reign  of 
Acamas  and  Demophoon  at  Athens  is  not  usually 
understood  to  have  commenced  till  after  the  siegp 
of  Troy  ;  but  it  appears  from  more  than  one  |:)^s- 
sage  in  the  writings  of  Euripides,   that  he  entirely 
passes  over  the  usurpation   of  Menestheus,  and 
considers  the  two  sons  of  Theseus  as  having  as- 
cended  the  (hrone  immediately  upon  the  death 
of  their  Father ;   and  what  most  clearly  proves 
that  the  Tragedy  of  the  Children   of  Hercules 
could. not  be  subsequent  to  the  return   of  the 
Greeks  from  the  siege  of  Troy,  is  Hyllus's  being 
marked  out  as  yet  a  stripling,  and  some  of  his 
Brothers  and  Sisters  as  in  a  state  of  absolute  in- 


xii  PREFACE. 

fancy :  I  must  therefore  place  this,  as  Mr.  Pot- 
ter has  done,  before  the  five  which  precede  it 
according  to  Canterus.  In  the  ten  piajs  which 
are  founded  either  on  the  Trojan  war,  or  the  ad- 
ventures of  those  Princes  who  there  signalized 
themselves,  aind  on  those  of  their  children,  I  have 
only  one  transposition  to  recommend,  and  that 
is  bringing  the  Helen,  which  expressly  precedes 
Menelaus's  return  to  Greece,  between  the'Cy- 
clops  and  Electra,  and  ending  with  the  Iphi- 
genia  in  Tauris,  which  will  thus  stand  at  a  very 
wide  and  aukward  distance  from  the  Iphigenia  in 
Aulis,  to  which  it  is  as  evident  a  sequel  as  the 
Suppliants  are  to  the  Phoenician  Damsels.  After 
I  had  weighed  the  inconveniencies  of  either  ar- 
rangement, the  idea  of  any  play  being  more  easily 
referred  to  (if  I  left  them  in  their  former  state) 
by  those  who  are  conversant  \yiih  Euripides,  was 
what  preponderated  :  but  such  readers  as  prefer 
^  chronological  arrangement  will  meet  vi^ith  the 
best  I  am  able  to  give  them  in  the  following  list, 
with  references  to  the  volumes  and  pages,  which 
will  enable  them  with  the  greatest  ease  to  mak^ 
use  of  it  in  the  perusal. 

1.  Bacchanalians    -    -    -    -    .    -    -    -    -  il,  347. 

2.  Ion      -    -    - till,  89^ 

3.  Medea , I,  247. 

4.  Phgbnici AN  Damsels    - I,  157. 

5.  Suppliants      --»- 11^  1, 

6.  HiPPOLYTCS       ---«. I,  315, 

7.  Alcestis -     I,  387. 

8.  Hercules  Distracted     ------  III,  177. 

9.  Children  of  Hercules II,  451. 

10.  Iphigenia  in  Aulis     7 11,  65. 


PREFACE.  xiii 

11.  Rhesus --••n,  239. 

12.  Trojan  Captives II,  289. 

13.  HecCba  -^ I,  1. 

14.  Cyclops II,  411. 

15.  Helen    ---- Ill,  i, 

16.  Electra --  ni,  ^43.^ 

17.  Orestes     ------ I,  59^ 

18.  Andromache  X :**     h  ^9- 

19.  Iprigenia  in  Taitris II,  157. 

If  I  have  not  translated  the  arguments  prefixed 
to  each  Tragedy,  it  is  by  no  means  owing  to  any 
wish  to  decline  so  small  an  addition  to  the  task  I 
had  engaged  in,  but  merely  to  my  judging  that 
the  Prologues  or  introductory  speeches,  which 
are  usually  very  clear  and  circumstantial,  render 
such  assistance  less  needful  for  the  purpose  of 
illustrating  Eurip'ides,  than  in  any  dramatic  per- 
formances I  ever  recollect  to  have  met  with, 
whether  antient  or  modern  :  which  made  me  ap- 
prehend, that  such  double  preludes,  first  in  plain 
prose  and  then  in  verse,  might  be  thought  super- 
fluous. 

France,  always  accustomed  to  take  the  lead 
of  other  European  nations,  in  the  various  de- 
partments of  polite  literature,  produced  very  early 
translations  of  two  Tragedies  of  Euripides.  The 
Hecuba,  by  Lazarus  de  Baif,  was  printed  by 
Robert  Stephens  in  1544  and  again  in  1550. 
Juvigny,  in  his  edition  of  Croix  de  Maine,  ob- 
serves, that  the  verses  are  of  all  measures,  and 
most  of  them  very  bad,  but  that  there  is  a  degree 
of  simplicity  in  some  parts,  which  makes  us  still 
read  them  with  pleasure ;  and  that  the  Iphigenia 


xiv  PREFACE. 

in  AuUs  by  Thomas  Sibillet,  Paris  1549,  abounds 
with  quaintness,  and  is  written  in  a  style  far 
from  beautiftil,  though  the  translator  is  spoken 
of  as  a  man  of  no  inconsiderable  learning  and 
merit. 

Previous  to  the  years  1748  and  1749,  when 
a  translation  of  the  Iphigenia  in  Tauris  by  Gil- 
bert West,  Esq.  made  its  appearance,  and  ano- 
ther of  the  Hecuba  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Morell, 
I  have  never  met  with  any  Tragedy  from  Eu- 
ripides in  the  English  language,  except  the  motley 
piece  of  the  Jocasta  by  Gascoigne  and  Kin- 
welmersh :  this  I  have  had  occasion  to  mention  in 
my  notes  on  the  Phoenician  Damsels,  which  is 
the  foundation  that  served  those  two  writers,  in 
the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  for  erecting  a  most 
incongruous  superstructure  ;  frequently  have  they 
deviated  from  the  original  for  whole  scenes  toge- 
ther, and  every  where  abound  with  the  grossest 
barbarisms  of  language.  Tanner,  in  his  Bibliotheca 
Britannica,  p.  488,  mentions  there  being  ex- 
tant in  manuscript,  a  translation  of  Iphigenia 
from  Greek  into  English,  by  Joanna  Lumley, 
Daughter  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel. 

At  the  time  of  advertising  in  the  papers  my 
iateniion  of  publishing  this  translation,  which 
was  in  the  month  of  February  1774,  I  thought 
that  about  one  year  would  have  been  sufficient 
for  finishing  the  work,  and  preparing  my  manu- 
script for  the  press ;  but^  on  a  closer  view,  the 


PREFACE.      .  XT 

task  was  found  to  be  so  much  more  arduous  than 
I  was  apprehensive  /it  would  have  proved,  that 
notwithstanding  about  eight  years  have  elapsed^ 
during  which  I  cannot  charge  myself  with  any 
gross  degree  of  remissness  or  inattention,  I  feel 
much  more  inclined  to  express  my  fears,  lest  I 
should  have  been  too  hasty  in  the  publication^ 
than  to  apologise  for  my  tardiness. 

But  on  finding  it  was  given  out  by  some  (espe- 
cially since  the  appearance  of  an  anonymous 
translation  of  four  select  Tragedies  from  Euripi- 
•  des  in  1780,  and  a  quarto  volume,  containing 
nine  Tragedies,  with  which  the  Reverend  Mn 
Potter  of  Seaming  in  Norfolk,  last  summer,  fa- 
voured his  Subscribers)  that  I  had  totally  aban- 
doned this  undertaking  (than  which  nothing 
could  be  more  distant  from  my  thoughts),  I 
apprehended,  that  similar  expressions,  and  even 
whole  lines,  which  will  sometimes  occur  with  little 
or  no  variation,  where  passages  are  literally  trans- 
lated from  the  same  original,  especially  into 
blank  verse,  might  give  rise  to  a  suspicion  that 
I  kept  myself  ia  reserve,  merely  to  take  undue 
advantages  in  availingmyself  of  the  labours  of  my 
competitors,  if  I  waited  till  either  of  these  Gen- 
tlemen had  published  the  whole  of  his  version 
before  I  committed  mine  to  the  press,  of  which 
it  seemed  eligible  not  to  make  separate  publica- 
tions. I  therefore  considered  it  as  incumbent 
on  me  to  exert  redoubled  diligence,  in  order  to 
produce    it  as  expeditiously    as  I   could,    con- 


xvi  PREFACE. 

sistently  with  an  attention  to  those  errors  and 
inaccuracies  which  I  was  sensible  demanded  a 
revisal. 

Of  the  n©tes,  which  I  have  already  mentioned, 
I  have  little  more  to  say,  but  that  they  are  col- 
lected from  a  variety  of  editors  and  commenta- 
tors>  and  will,  E  hope,  many  of  them,  be  found 
explanatory  of  antient  manners,  and  the  history  of 
the  Fabulous  and  Heroic  ages  :  the  few  of  my  own 
which  I  have  hazarded,  however  defective  in  other 
respects,  I  can  venture  to  speak  of  as  written  by 
an  unconnected  man,  who  is  not  disposed  to  step 
aside  either  to  flatter  the  living,  or  insult  the 
dead,  and  whose  peculiar  attention  it  has  been  to 
keep  them  cKear  from  every  the  smallest  allusion 
to  any  modern  disputes  either  in  politics  or  lite- 
rature. If  opinions  relative  to  matters  of  criticism 
are  there  at  any  time  maintained  against  those 
to  whom  it  might  seem  that  implicit  deference 
is  due  from  one  so  greatly  their  inferior,  I  trust 
it  will  be  found,   upon  examination,  that   I  am 

« 

not  contending  for  readings  or  interpretations  of 
my  own  broaching,  but  such  as  have  been  received 
by  those  who  are  the  more  to  be  relied  upon,  be- 
cause their  fame  has  stood  undiminished  throug)i 
a  series  of  years. 

Jfril  24ith,  1782. 


CONTENTS. 


VOL.  I, 


PAGE. 

Hecuba ^  .......  .       1 

Orestes 50 

Ph(enician  Damsels ,  .  •  157 

Medea , 247 

HippoLYTus r 315 

Alcestis    387 

Andromache ,  449 


CONTENTS. 


VOL.  I, 


PAGE. 

Hecuba • ^  .  . 1 

Orestes • 50 

Ph(enician  Damsels ,  . .  157 

Medea 247 

HippoLYTus r 315 

Alcestis 387 

Andromache .  .  •  ,  449 


HECUBA. 


THE  GHOST  OF  POLYDORE. 

Xj BATING  the  cavern  of  the  dead^  and  gates 

Of  darkness^  where  from  all  the  Gods  apart 

Dwells  Pluto,  come  I  Polydore,  the  son 

Of  Hecuha  from  royal  Cisseus  sprung. 

And  Priam,  who,  when  danger  threaten'd  Troy, 

Fearing  his  city  by  the  Grecian  arms 

Would  be  laid  low  in  dust,  from  Phrygia's  realm 

In  privacy  conveyed  me  to  the  house 

Of  Polymestor,  of  his  Thracian  friend. 

Who  tills  the  Chersonesus'  fruitful  soil, 

Ruling  a  nation  fam'd  for  generous  steeds; 

But  secretly,  with  me,  abundant  gold 

My  father  sent,  that  his  surviving  children 

Might  lack  no  sustenance,  if  Ilion's  walls 

Should  by  the  foe  be  levell'd  with  the  ground. 

I  was  the  youngest  of  all  Priam's  sons. 

By  stealth  he  therefore  sent  me  from  the  realm ; 

Nor  could  my  feeble  arm  sustain  the  shield. 

Or  launch  the  javelin :  but  while  yet  entire 

Each  antient  land-mark  on  our  frontiers  stood. 

The  turrets  of  the  Phrygian  state  remained 

Unshaken,  and  my  brother  Hector's  spear 

Prosper'd  in  battle ;  nurtur'd  by  the  man 

Of  Thrace,  my  father's  friend,  I,  wretched  youth. 

Grew  like  a  vigorous  scion.     But  when  Troy, 

When  Hector  fail'd,  when  my  paternal  dome 

Was  hom  its  basis  rent,  and  Priam's  sel^ 


4  HECUBA. 

My  aged  father,  at  the  altar  bled 

Which  to  the  Gods  his  pious  hands  had  rear'dy 

Butcher'd  by  curst  Achilles'  ruthless  son  ; 

Me,  his  unhappy  guest,  my  father's  friend 

Slew  for  the  sake  of  gold,  and  having  slain, 

Plung'd  me  into  the  sea,  that  he  might  keep 

Those  treasures  in  his  house.     My  breathless  corsty 

In  various  eddies  by  the  rising  waves 

Of  ocean  tost,  lies  oh  the  craggy  shore^ 

Unwept,  unburied.     But  by  filial  love 

For  Hecuba  now  prompted,  I  ascend 

A  disembodied  ghost,  and  thrice  have  seen 

The  morning  dawn,  to  Chersonesus  land. 

Since  my  unhappy  mother  came  from  Troy. 

But  all  the  Grecian  ai-my,  in  their  ships. 

Here  anchoring  on  this  coast  of  Thrace  remain 

Inactive  ;  for  appearing  on  his  tomb 

Achilles,  Peleus'  son,  restrain'd  the  troops. 

Who  homeward  else  hadsteer'd  their  barks,  and  claims 

Polyxena  my  sister,  as  a  victim 

Most  precious  at  his  sepulchre  to  bleed; 

And  her  will  he  obtain,  nor  will  his  friends 

Withold  the  gift ;  for  fate  this  day  decrees 

That  she  shall  die:  my  Mother  must  behold 

Two  of  her  slaughtered  children's  corses>  mine. 

And  this  unhappy  maid's  —  that  in  a  tomb 

I  may  be  lodg'd,  where  the  firm  beach  resists 

The  waves,  I  to  her  servant  will  appear. 

Since  from  the  powers  of  hell  I  have  obtain'd 

The  privilege  of  honorable  interment. 

And. that  a  mother's  hand  these  rites  perform : 

I  shall  accomplish  what  my  soul  desir'd. 

But  on  the  aged  Hecuba's  approach, 

Far  hence  must  I  retreat ;  for  from  the  tent 

Of  Agamemnon  she  comes  forth,  alarm'd 

By  my  pale  spectre.    O  my  wretched  mother^ 

How  art  thou  torn  from  princely  roofs  to  view 


HECUBA.  5 

T1)is  kour  of  servitude !  what  sad  reverse 

Of  fortune !  some  malignant  God  hath  balanced 

Tby  present  misery  'gainst  thy  former  bliss.         [Exit. 

HECUBAj  ATTENDED  BY   TROJAN  DAMSELS. 

HECUBA. 

Forth  from  these  doors^  ye  gentle  virgins,  lead  me, 
A  weak  old  woman :  O  ye  nymphs  of  Troy, 
Support  your  fellow-servant,  once  your  queen  ; 
Bear  me  along,  uphold  my  tottering  frame. 
And  take  me  by  this  aged  hand ;  your  arm 
Shall  be  my  staff  to  lean  on,  while  I  strive 
My  tardy  pace  to  quicken.     O  ye  Lightnings 
Of  Jove,  O  Night  in  tenfold  darkness  wrapt. 
By  such  terrific  phantoms  from  my  couch 
Why  am  I  scared  i     Thou  venerable  earth. 
Parent  of  dreams  that  flit  on  raven  wing; 
The  vision  I  abhor,  which  I  in  sleep 
This  night  have  seen,  relating  to  my  son, 
IVho  here  is  foster'd  in  the  Thr^ian  r.ealny. 
And  to  Polyxena  my  dearest  daughter: 
For  I  too  clearly  saw  and  understood 
The  meaning  of  that  dreadful  apparition; 

_  ■ 

Ye  tutelary  Gods  of  this  doipain. 

Preserve  the  onjy  anchor  of  our  house. 

My  son,  who  dwells  in  Thracian  fields,  o*erspread 

With  snow,  protected  by  his  father's  friend. 

Some  fresh  event  awaits  us,  and  ere  long 

By  accents  mo§t  unwelcome  sh^U  the  ear 

Of  wretchedness  be  >vounded:  till  this  hour. 

By  such  incessant  horrors,  such  alarais, 

My  soul  was  never  seiz'd.     Where  shall  I  view 

The  soul  of  Helenus,  on  whom  tlie  God 

Beatow'd  prophetic  gifts,  ye  Phrygian  maids? 

Where  my  Cassandra  to  unfold  the  dream? 

With  bloody  fangs  I  saw  a  vfoli)  who  sle^y 


6  HECUBA. 

A  dappled  hind,  which  forcibly  he  tore 
From  these  reluctant  arms,  and  what  encrea»*d 
My  fears,  was  this ;  Achilles'  spectre  stalk'd 
Upon  the  summit  of  his  tomb,  and  claim'd 
A  gift,  some  miserable  Trojan (i)  captive. 
You  therefore  I  implore,  ye  Gods,  avert 
Such  doom  from  my  lov'd  daughter, 

CHORUS,  HECUBA. 

CHORUS. 

I  to  thee, 
A'   To  thee,  O  Hecuba,  with  breathless  speed. 
Fly  from  the  tents  of  our  imperious  lords. 
Where  I  by  lot  have  been  assigned,  and  doom'd 
To  be  a  slave,  driven'by  the  pointed  spear 
From  Troy ;  by  their  victorious  arms  the  Greeks 
Have  made  me  captive :  nothing  can  I  bring. 
Thy  sorrows  to  alleviate ;  but  to  thee 
Laden  with  heaviest  tidings  am  I  come 
The  herald  of  affliction.     For  'tis  said, 

(1)  From  the  most  antfaentic  account  oi  human  sacrifices  at  theu- 
first  origin,  they  appear  either  to  have  consisted  of  virgins,  or  young 
men,  in  a  state  of  celibacy.    No  less  than  four  instances  occur  in  the 
tragedies  of  Euripides,   three  of  whom,  Polyxena,  Iphigenia,  and  Ma. 
caria,  are  virgins,  and  Menaeceus  is  unwedded;  the  latter  is  expressly 
marked  out  by  Tiresias  as  the  only  fit  victim  in  Creon's  family,  on  ac- 
count of  Haemon  his  other  son  being  affianced  to  Antigore.    It  may  be 
necessary  to  premise  thus  much,  as  the  name  of  Polyxena  is  not  once 
mentioned  in  the  account  given  by  the  Chorus,  in  Uie  ensuing  speech 
of  the  debate  among  the  Grecian  chiefs,  among  whom  the  question  ap- 
pears to  have  been,  whether  she  (the  only  virgin  of  Priam's  house) 
should  be  given  as  a  victim  to  appease  the  Ghost  of  Achilles :  she  was 
naturally  fixed  upon,  both  on  account  of  her  royal  birth,  and  having 
been  betrothed  to  him ;  nor  do  they  seem  to  have  had  any  intentions^ 
(as  Brumoy  too  hastily  asserts)  of  sacrificing  Cassandra,  the  concubine 
of  Agamemnon,  whose  attachment  to  that  princess  is  incidentafly  men« 
tioned  as  tlie  cause  of  his  interesting  himself  in  behalf  of  her  mother^ 
arid  wishing  to  save  her  sister  Polyxena,  whom  the  Ghost  of  Achilles  had 
demanded  as  a  victim. 


HECUBA.  -  7, 

Greece  In  full  council  hath  resolved  thy  daughter 

A  victhn  to  Achilles  shall  be  given. 

The  warrior  mounting  on  his  tomb,  thou  know'st, 

AppearM  in  golden  armour,  ^^nd  restrained 

The  fleet  just  ready  to  unfurl  its  sails, 

Exclaiming,  ^^  Whither  would  ye  steer  your  course, 

*^  Ye  Greeks,  and  leave  no  offering  on  my  grave  ?" 

A  storm  of  violent  contention  rose. 

And  two  opinions  in  the  martial  synod 

Of  Greece  went  forth;  the  victim,  some  maintain'd^ 

Ought  on  the  sepulchre  to  bleed,  and  some 

Such  offering  disapproved.     But  Agamemnon, 

Who  shares  the  bed  of  the  Prophetic  Dame, 

Espous'd  thy  interest;  while  the (2)  sons  of  Theseus^ 

{2)  Acamas  and  Demophoon*  When  the  afiairs  of  Theseus  became  - 
desperate,  and  he  no  longer  found  himself  able  to  mamtain  his  authori- 
ty at  Athens  against  the  friends  of  Menestheus,  h^  privately  sent  his 
two  sons  to  Eiiba'a,  from  whence,  Plutarch  asserts,  tiey  followed  the  ' 
Imnners  of  Elphenor,  as  private  men,  to  the  siege  of  Troy ;  which  ac« 
comits  for  Homer's  making  no  mention  of  them  in  his  Catalogue  of  the 
Grecian  Fleet :  but  In  Tryphydorus  and  Quintus  Calaber,  we  find  the 
names  of  them  both  among  the  warriors  who  were  endos'd  in  the 
Wooden  Horse.  M enestheus  commanded  the  Athenian  troops  during 
the  Trojan  war,  and  died  in  his  return  in  the  isle  of  Melos ;  upon  which 
Acamas  and  Demophoon  became  joint  kings  of  Athens.  But  accor- 
ding to  Euripides,  they  were  in  possession  of  that  throne,  at  the  time 
when  Alcmena,  the  widow  of  Hercules,  fled  thither  with  her  children 
to  sue  for  protection  from  the  Athenians  against  Eurystlieus,  which 
must  have  been  previous  to  the  Trojan  war.  In  the  account  of  the 
Ccfedan  Fleet,  at  the  time  of  its  rendezvous  at  Aulis,  in  the  Iphigenia 
of  EuripMies,  which  d^ers  considerably  from  Homer's,  the  Athenian 
squadron  is  said  to  have  been  commanded  by  '^  the  son  of  Theseus," 
whom  the  poet  does  not  name ;  but,  as  Barnes  observes  in  his  note,  either 
Acamas  or  Demophoon  must  be  the  person  there  meant:  these  two 
passages,  however,  of  Homer  and  Euripides,  seem  to  have  led  the 
gentlemen,  who  republished  Robert  Stephens*s  Latin  Thesaurus,  with 
very  considerable  additions,  at  L.ondon,  in  1734,  into  a  most  j^ross  and 
palpable  «rror;  under  the  article  Menestheus,  tliey  call  him  tlie  son 
Qf  Theseus  and  Phaedra,  though  it  is  well  known  he  was  the  son  of 
JPetftus;  and  it  appears  from  Plutarch's  Life  of  Theseus,  which  I  have 
aifaready  cited,  that  he  did  not  obtain  the  Atlienian  sceptre  by  right  of 
Udieritancei  but  by  forcibly  wresting  it  from  that  monarch;  Ges|i^r^ 


8  HECUBA. 

Branches  from  the  Athenian  root,  discuss'd 
The  question  largely  in  each  point  of  view, 
But  in  the  same  opinion  both  concurred. 
And  said  that  never  should  Cassandra's  love 
To  great  Achilles*  valor  be  preferred : 
Equally  balanced  the  debate  still  hung. 
When  he,  that  crafty  orator,  endued 
With  sweetest  voice,  the  favorite  of  the  crowd, 
Laertes*  son,  persuaded  all  the  host, 
Not  to  reject  the  first  of  Grecian  chiefs^ 
And  yield  the  preference  to  a  victim  slave : 
Lest  some  vindictive  ghost,  before  the  throne 
Of  Proserpine  arising,  might  relate 
How  Greece  unmindful  of  her  generous  sonSy 
Who  nobly  perish'd  for  thejr  native  land, 
^rom  Ilion's  fields  departed.     In  a  moment 
Ulysses  will  come  hither,  from  thy  breast> 
And  aged  arms  to  drag  the  tender  maid. 
But  to  the  temples,  to  the  altars,  go. 
In  suppliant  posture  clasp  Atrides'  knees. 
Invoke  the  Gods  of  heaven  and  bell  beneath, 

# 

For  either  thou  wilt  by  thy  prayers  avert 
Thy  daughter's  fate,  else  must  thou  at  the  tomb 
Behold  the  virgin  fall  distain'd  with  gore. 
And  gushing  from  her  neck  a  crimson  stream. 

HECUBA, 

Wretch  that  I  am !  ah  me !  what  clamorous  sounds^ 
What  words,  what  plaints,  what  dirges  shall  I  find. 
Expressive  of  the  anguish  which  I  feel? 
Opprest  by  miserable  old  age,  bow'd  down 
Under  a  load  of  servitude  too  heavy 
To  be  endur'd :  what  sanctuary  remains. 


in  his  Thee,  Lat  lipiic,  1749,  not  only  retBuis  this  miitakey  bat  exagb 
geratei  it,  by  caOing  Menestheus  the  brother  of  I>emopboon.  In 
translating  aiovuv  piAut  p^(  nrm-  y^t^n  h  ^la  oi/vfyupmnv,  I  have  followed 
the  interpretation  of  HeaUer,  ivho  has  illubtrated  tliis  single  pla;^  witl| 
as  tiaboiate  fommcnt  of  291  leaves,  printed  at  Lipsic  in  1554. 


HECUBA.-  9 

What  valiant  race,  what  city  will  protect  me? 

The  hoary  Priam  is  no  more,  my  sons 

Are  now  no  more.    Or  to  this  path^  or  thatj 

Shall  I  direct  my  steps ?  or  whither  go? 

Where  shall  I  find  some  tutelary  God  f  < 

Ye  Phrygian  captives,  messengers  of  ill, 

O  ye  who  with  unwelcome  tidings  fraught. 

Come  hither,  ye  have  ruinM  me^    The  orb 

Of  day  shall  never  rise  to  fill  this  breast 

With  any  comfort  more.     Ye  luckless  feet. 

Bear  an  infirm  old  woman  to  the  tent 

Of  our  captivity.     Come  forth,  my  daughter. 

Come  forth  and  listen  to  thy  mother's  voice. 

That  thou  may'st  know  the  rumor  I  have  heard. 

In  which  thy  life  is  interested. 

POLYXENA,  HECUBA,  CHORUS.  Jjf 

,  POLYXENA.  *^ 

^v^  -  O  mother, 

\      What  mean  you  by  those  shrieks  ?  what  fresh  event 
Proclaiming,  from  my  chamber,  like  a  bird. 
Have  you  constiain'd  me,  urg'd  by  fear,  to  speed 
My  flight? 

HECUBA. 

Ah,  daughter ! 

POLYXENA. 

With  foreboding  voice. 
Why  do  you  call  me  ?  these  are  evil  omens. 

,    .  HECUBA. 

Alas]  thy  life,  Polyxena. 

•  POLYXENA. 

Speak  out. 
Nor  aggravate  the  horrors  yet  untold 
By  long  suspence.     I  fear,  O  mother,  much 
I  fear.     What  nvean  those  oft  repeated  groans  ? 

HECUBA. 

Thou  child  of  a  most  miserable  mother ! 


A 


l&.  HECUBA; 

POLYXENA^ 

Why  speak  you  thus  ? 

HECtJBA. 

The  Greeks,  with  one  consent. 
Resolve  that  on  the  tomb  of  Peleus'  son 
Thou  shalt  be  sacrific'd. 

POLYXENA 

What  boundless  woes 
Are  these  which  to  your  daughter  you  announce  ! 
Yet,  O  my  mother,  with  the  tale  proceed. 

HECUBA. 

Of  a  most  horrible  report  I  speak. 
Which  says,  that,  by  the  suffrage  of  the  Greeks, 
It  is  resolv'd  to  take  away  thy  hfe. 

POLYXENA.  """^ 

O,  my  unhappy  mother,  doom'd  to  suffer 
Wrongs  the  most  dreadful,  doom'd  to  lead  a  life 
Of  utter  wretchedness :  what  grievous  curse. 
Such  as  no  language  can  express,  on  you 
Hath  some  malignant  Demon  hurl'd  !  no  more 
Can  I,  your  daughter,  share  the  galling  yoke 
Of  servitude  with  your  forlorn  old  age ; 
For  like  some  lion's  whelp,  or  heifer  bred 
Upon  the  mountains,  hurried  from  your  arms 
Shall  you  behold  me,  and  with  sever'd  head 
Consigned  to  Pluto's  subterraneous  realms 
Of  darkness,  there  among  the  silent  dead. 
Wretch  that  I  am,  shall  I  be  laid.    These  tears 
Of  bitter  lamentation  I  for  you. 
For  you,  O  mother,  shed ;  but  my  own  life 
I  heed  not,  nor  the  shame,  nor  fatal  stroke. 
For  I  in  death  a  happier  lot  obtain. 

CHORUS. 

To  thee,  O  Hecuba,  with  hasty  step 
Behold  Ulysses  some  iiew  message  bringst 


HfiCUBA.  '  11 

ULYSSES,  HECUBA,  POLYXENA,  CHORUS, 

ULYSSES.  .     .^ 

Tho*  I  presume  the  counsels  of  our  troops 
And  tbeir  decision.are  already  known 
To  thee,  O  woman,  yet  must  I  repeat 
Th*  unwelcome  tidings ;  at  Achilles'  tomb, 
Polyxena,  thy  daughter,  have  the  Greeks 
Resolv'd  to  slay ;  me  to  attend  the  virgia 
Have  they  commanded ;  but  Achilles'  son 
Is  at  the  altar  destin'd  to  preside. 
And  be  the  priest.,    Know'st  thou  thy  duty  then  ? 
donstrain  us  not  to  drag  her  from  those  arms 
With  violence,  nor  strive  with  me  j  but  learn 
The  force  of  thy  inevitable  woes : 
For  ttiere  is  wisdom,  e'en  when  we  are  wretched. 
In  following  reason's  dictates, 

HECUBA.. 

Now,  alas! 
It  seems  a  dreadful  struggle  is  at  hand, 
With  groans  abounding  and  unuumber'd  tears. 
I  died  not  at  the  time  I  ought  to  die. 
Neither  did  Jove  destroy  me ;  he  still  spares 
My  life,  that  I  may  view  fresh  woes,  yet  greater. 
Wretch  that  1  am,  than  all  my  former  woes. 
But  if  a  slave,  who  not  with  bitter  taunt. 
Or  keen  reproach,  her  questions  doth  propose. 
Might  speak  to  freemen,  now  'tis  time  for  you 
To  cease,  and  give  me  audience  while  I  ask— 


ULYSSES. 


AUow'd,  proceed;  fori  without  reluctance 
Will  grant^thee  time. 

HECU53A. 

Remember  you  when  erst 
You  came  to  Troy  a  spy,  in  tatter'd  garb 
Disguis'd,  and  from  your  eyes  upon  your  beard. 
Fell  tears  extorted. by  the  dread  of  death  i 


IS  HECUBA. 

VIYSSS8# 

I  well  remember :  for  by  that  event 
Mj  inmost  heart  was  touch'd. 

HECUBA* 

But  (3)  Helen  knew  yon. 
And  told  me  only. 

ULYSSES. 

I  can  ne'er  forget 
Into  what  danger  I  was  fallen. 

HECUBA. 

My  knees 
You  in  a  lowly  posture  did  embrace 

ULYSSES. 

And  to  thy  garment  clung  with  faltering  hand, 

HECUBA. 

At  length  I  sav'd,  and  from  our  land  dismissed  you* 

ULYSSES. 

Hence  I  the  solar  beams  yet  view. 

HECUBA. 

What  language 
Did  you  then  hold,  when  subject  to  my  power  i 

ULYSSES. 

Full  many  were  the  words  which  I  devis'd 
To  save  my  life. 

HECUBA. 

Doth  not  your  guilt  appear 
From  your  own  counsels  ?  Though  your  tongue  avows 
The  generous  treatment  you  from  me  received 
No  benefit  on  me  do  you  confer. 
But  strive  to  harm  me.    O  ungrateful  race 
Of  men,  who  aim  at  popular  applause 
By  your  smooth  speeches ;  would  to  heav'n  I  ne*er 
Had  known  you,  for  ye  heed  not  how  ye  wound 
Your  friends,  whene'er  ye  can  say  aught  to  win 
The  crowd.    But  what  pretence  could  they  devise 

(3)  See  ^omer,  O&ym.  I  iv.  vet.  i^f-HtM. 


HECUBA.  W 

For  sentencing  thh  virgi^  to  be  slain  i 
Are  they  censtrain'd  by  fate,  with  human  victims^ 
To  drench  the  tomb  on  which  they  rather  ought 
To  sacrifice  the  steer  ?  or  doth  Achilles 
Demand  her  life  with  justice,  to  retaliate 
Slaughter  on  them  who  slailgbter'd  ?     But  to  him 
Hath  she  done  nought  injurious.     He  should  claim 
Helen  as  victim  at  his  tomb^  for  she 
His  ruin  caus'd  by  leading  him  to  Troy, 
If  it  was  needful  that  some  chosen  captive 
Distinguished  by  transcendent  charms  should  die. 
We  were  not  meant ;  for  the  perfidious  daughter 
Of  Tyndanis  is  most  beauteous^  and  her  crimes 
To  ours  at  least  are  equal.    Justice  only 
In  this  debate  supports  me:  hear  how  large 
The  debt  which  'tis  your  duty  to  repay 
On  my  petition  :  you  confess  you  touch'd 
My  hand^  and  these  my  aged  cheeks,  in  dust 
Groveling  a  suppliant;  yours  I  now  embrace, 
From  you  the  kindness  which  I  erst  bestow'd 
Again  implore,  and  sue  to  you  :  O  tear  not 
My  daughter  from  these  arms,  nor  slay  the  maid : 
Sufficient  is  the  number  of  the  slain. 
In  her  I  yet  rejoice,  in  her  forget 
My  woes;  she,  for  the  loss  of  many  childitn. 
Consoles  me,  lin  her  a  country  find, 
A  nurse,  a  stafi^,  a  guide.    The  mighty  ought  not 
To  issue  lawless  mandates,  nor  should  they, 
,  On  whom  propitious  fortunes  now  attend. 
Think  that  their  triumphs  will  for  ever  last : 
For  I  was  happy  once,  but  am  no  more. 
My  bliss  all  vanished  in  a  single  day. 
Yet,  O  my  friend,  revere  and  pity  me, 
Go  to  the  Grecian  host,  admonish  them 
How  horrible  an  action  'twere  to  slay 
These  captive  women  whom  at  first  ye  spai'S, 
And  pitied  when  ye  dragg'd  them  from  the  altars.     Z 


14  HECUBA- 

For  by  yonr  laws  'tis  equally  forbidden 

To  spill  the  blood  of  freeman^  or  of  slave^ 

Altho'  you  weakly  argue^  will  your  rank 

Convince  them  :  for  the  self-same  speech^  when  uttei^d 

By  the  ignoble^  and  men  well  esteem'dj 

Comes  not  with  eqa'al  fioroe. 

CHORUS. 

The  human  soul 
Is  not  so  flinty  as  to  hear  the  woes 
And  plaintive  strains  thou  lengthen'st  out,  nor  shed 
The  sympathising  tear. 

ULTSSBS. 

1*0  me  attend, 

0  Hecuba^  nor  thro'  resentment  deem 
That  from  a  foe  such  counsels  can  proceed : 

1  am  disposed  to  sstve  thee,  and  now  hold 
No  other  language :  but  will  not  deny 
What  I  to  all  have  said^  since  Troy  is  taken> 
On  the  first  warrior  of  the  host  who  asks 

A  victim,  should  thy  daughter  be  bestow'd. 

The  cause  why  many  cities  are  diseas'd 

Is  this :  the  brave  and  generous  man  obtains 

Ho  honorable  distinction  to  exalt  him 

Above  the  coward.     But  from  us,  O  woman^ 

Achilles  claims  such  homage^  who  for  Greece 

Died  nobly.     Is  not  this  a  foul  reproach. 

If,  while  our  friends  yet  live,  we  seek  their  aid. 

But  after  death  ungratefully  forget 

Past  services  f     Should  armed  bands  once  more 

Assemble,  and  renew  the  bloody  strife. 

Will  not  some  hardy  veteran  thus  exclaim; 

"  Shall  we  go  forth  to  battle,  or  indulge 

*'  The  love  of  life,-  now  we  have  seen  the  dead 

''  Obtain  no  honors  ?"    While  from  day  to  day 

I  live,  though  I  have  little,  yet  that  little 

For  every  needful  purpose  will  suffice. 


HECUBA.  15 

But  may  conspicuous  trophies  o'er  my  grave 
Be  planted^  for  such  tribute  to  my  name 
Will  last  to  after-ages.     If  thou  call 
Thy  sufferings  piteous,  hear  what  in  reply 
We  have  to  urge ;  amidst  the  Grecian  camp 
Are  many  aged  dames,  as  miserable 
As  thou  art,  with  full  many  a  hoary  sire. 
And  weepitig  bride,  torn  from  her  valiant  lord. 
O'er  whose  remains  hath  Ma's  dust  been  strewn^ 
Support  thy  woes :  if  with  mistaken  zeal 
We  have  resolv'd  to  honor  the  deceased. 
Our  crime  is  ignorance :  but  ye  Barbarians 
Pay  no  distinction  to  your  friends,  no  homage 
To  the  illustrious  dead;  hence  Greece  pievaik; 
But  ye  from  your  pernicious  counsels  reap 
The  bitter  fruits  tliey  merit. 

CHORUS. 

Ah,  what  ills 
Ever  attend  the  captive  state,  subdued 
By  brutal  violence,  and  forc*d  t'  endure 
Unseemly  wrongs, 

HECUBA. 

Those  words  I  vainly  spoke 
Thy  slaughter  to  avert,  in  air  were  lavished : 
But,  O  my  daughter,  if  thy  power  exceed 
Thy  mother's,  like  the  nightingale  send  forth 
Each  warbled  note,  to  save  thy  life,  excite. 
By  falling  at  his  kn^es,  Ulysses*  pity. 
And  on  this  ground,  because  he  too  hath  children^ 
Entreat  him  to  compassionate  thy  doom. 

POLYXBNA. 

I  see  thee,  O  Ulysses,  thy  right  hand 
Beneath  thy  robe  concealing,  see  thee  turn 
Thy  face  away,  lest  I  should  touch  thy  beard. 
Be  of  good  cheer;  Til  not  call  down  the  wrath 
Of  Jove  who  guards  the  suppliant,  but  will  follow 


16  HECUBA. 

Thy  step»,  because  necessity  ordains 

And  'tis  mj'  wish  to  die ;  if  I  were  loth, 

I  should  appear  to  be  an  abject  woman. 

And  fond  of  life :  but  what  could  lengthen'd  life 

Avail  to  me,  whose  father  erst  was  lord 

Of  the  whole  Phrygian  realm  ?   Thus  first  I  drew 

My  breath  beneath  the  roofs  of  regal  domes; 

Then  was  I  nurtured  with  the  flattering  hope 

That  1  should  wed  a  monarch,  and  arrive 

At  the  proud  mansion  of  some  happy  youth. 

Ill-fated  princess,  thus  1  stood  conspicuous 

Aniicf  the  dames  and  brightest  nymphs  of  Troy, 

In  all  but  immortality  a  Goddess ; 

But  now  am  1  a  slave,  and  the  first  cause 

Which  makes  me  wish  to  die,  is  that  abhorr'd 

Unwonted  name  ;  else  some  inhuman  lord 

With  gold  perchance  might  purchase  me,  the  sister 

Of  Hector,  and  full  many  a  valiant  chief. 

Might  make  me  knead  the  bread,  and  sweep  the  floor. 

And  plj'  the  loom,  and  pass  my  abject  days 

In  bitterness  of  woe  :  some  servile  mate 

Might  bring  dishonor  to  my  bed,  tho*  erst 

I  was  deem'd  worthy  of  a  scepter'd  king : 

Not  thus.    These  eyes  shall  to  the  last  behold 

The  light  of  freedom.    0  ye  shades  receive 

A  princess.     Lead  me  on  then,  O  Ulysses, 

And  as  thou  lead'st  dispatch  me,  for  no  hope, 

No  ground  for  thinking,  I  shall  e'er  be  happy. 

Can  I  discern  :  yet  hinder  not  by  word 

Or  deed  the  stedfast  purpose  I  have  form'd ; 

But,  O  my  mother,  in  this  wish  concur  ] 

With  me,  that  I  may  die  ere  I  endure 

Such  wrongs  as  suit  not  my  exalted  rank. 

For  whosoe'er  hath  not  been  us'd  to  taste 

Of  sorrow,  bears  indeed  the  galling  yoke. 

Yet  is  he  griev'd,  when  he  to  such  constraint 

Submits  bis  neck:  but  they  who  die  paay find 


HECUBA.  It 

A  bliss  beyond  the  living ;  for  to  live 
Ignobly  were  the  uimost  pitch  of  shame. 

CUO£US. 

A  great  distinction,  and  among  mankind 
The  most  conspicuous^  is  to  spring  from  sires 
Kenown'd  for  virtue ;  generous  souls  hence  raises 
To  heights  sublimer  an  ennobled  name. 

HECUBA. 

Thou,  O  my  daughter^  well  indeed  hast  spoken ; 
Yet  these  exalted  sentiments  of  thine 
To  me  will  cause  fresh  grief:  but,  if  the  son 
Of  Peleus  must  be  gratified,  and  Greece 
Avoid  reproach,  Ulysses,  slay  not  her. 
But  me,  conducting  to  Achilles'  tomb,  « 

Transpierce  with  unrelenting  hand.    I  bore 
Paris,  whose  shafts  the  son  of  Thetis  slew. 

ULYSSES. 

Not  thee  for  victim,  O  thou  aged  dame. 
But  her,  Achilles*  spectre  hath  demanded. 

HECUBA. 

Yet  slay  me  with  my  daughter ;  so  shall  Earth, 
And  the  Deceased  who  claims  these  hateful  rites, 
A  twofold  portion  drink  of  human  gore. 

ULYSSES. 

Enough  in  her  of  victims ;  let  no  more 
Be  added  :  would  to  heaven  we  were  not  bound 
To  offer  up  this  one ! 

HECUBA. 

The  dread  behest» 
Of  absolute  necessity  require. 
That  with  my  daughter  I  should  die^ 

ULYSSES. 

What  mean'st^thou } 
I  know  no  Lord  to  counteract  my  will. 

HECUBA. 

Her,  as  the  ivy  clings  around  the  oak, 
Will  1  embrace. 

VOL.  I.  c 


18  HECUBA. 

ULYSSES. 

Not  if  to  wiser  counsels 
Thou  yield  just  deference. 

HECUBA. 

I  will  ne'er  consent 
My  daughter  to  release. 

ULYSSES. 

Nor  will  I  go. 
And  leave  her  here. 

POLYXENA. 

Attend  to  me,  my  mother^ 
And,  O  thou  offspring  of  Laertes,  treat 
The  just  emotions  of  parental  wrath 
With  greater  mildness.     But,  O  hapless  woman, 
Contend  not  with  our  conquerors.     Would  you  faH 
Upon  the  earth  and  wound  your  aged  limbs. 
Thrust  from  me  forcibly,  by  youthful  arms 
Tom  with  disgrace  away  f    Provoke  not  wrongs 
Unseemly  ;  O,  my  dearest  mother,  give 
That  much-lov*d  hand,  and  let  me  join  my  cheek 
To  yours ;  for  I  no  longer  shall  behold 
The  radiant  orb  of  yonder  Sun.     Now  take 
A  last  farewell,  O  you  who  gave  me  birth ; 
I  to  the  shades  descend. 

HECUBA* 

But  I  the  light 
Am  doom'd  to  view,  and  still  remain  a  slave. 

POLYXENA. 

Un wedded,  reft  of  promis'd  bridal  joys. 

HECUBA, 

Thou,  O  my  daughter,  elaim*st  the  pitying  tear : 
But  I  am  a  most  niiserable  woman. 

POLYXENA. 

There  shall  I  sleep  among  the  realms  beneath. 
From  3'ou  secluded. 


HEeU?A-  w 

What  resource^  alas ! 
For  me,  th6  wretched  Hecuba  is  left  f 
Where  shall  I  finish  tbi3  cletested  life  i 

l^OLYXENA. 

Born  free,  I  die  a  slave.    ♦ 

HECUBA. 

L  too,  bereft 
Of  (4)  all  my  children. 

POLYXENA. 

What  commands  to  Hector, 
Or  to  your  aged  Husband,  shall  I  bear  i 

HECUBA. 

Tell  them  I  of  al}  woqaen  am  most  wretched. 

POLYXENA. 

Ye  paps  which  sweetly  nourish'd  me  — 

HECUBA. 

Alas! 
My  child's  untimely  miserable  fate. 

r 

POLyXENA. 

Farewell,  ipy  mother,  and  my  dear  Cassandra. 

HECUBA* 

To  others  in  that  language  ^^eak ;  be  theirs 
The  happiness  thy  mother  cannot  taste. 

POLYXENA. 

And  thou,  my  brother  t^olydbre,  who  dwell'st 
Among  the  Thracians,  fam'd  for  generous  steeds  — 

HECUBA. 

If  yet  he  Uve ;  but  this  I  greatly  doUbt, 
Because  I  am  in  ail  respects  so  wretched. 

(4)  In  the  original  k  is  nfrnxont  Hot&iv,  pf  myjl^  <4nMren;  bat  the 
Scholiast  observes,  thi^t  tl^  spprioHS  children  of  Priam  arehere  added  by 
Hecuba  to  her  own,  .who  were  nineteen  in  number,  to  increase  the  pa- 
thos. Priam's  whole  fa^lily,  according  to  Homer,  in  the  nxth  book  of 
the  niad,  coasisted  of -fifly  sons  and  twelve  danghteis,  in  «U  sixty-two 
chiMrtii.. 

.        C  « 


«0  HECUBA. 

POLYXENA. 

He  lives,  and  when  the  hour  of  death  is  come. 
Will  close  your  ejes. 

HECUBA. 

I'm  prematurely  dead 
While  yet  alire^  bow*d  down  to  earth  by  woe. 

POtYXEKA. 

Now  bear  me  hence,  Ulysses,  o'er  my  face 
Casting  a  veil :  for  ere  I  at  the  altar 
Am  slain,  this  heart  is  melted  by  the  plaints 
Of  my  dear  Mother,  and  my  tears  augment 
Her  sorrows.     O  thou  radiant  Light ;  for  still 
Am  I  permitted  to  invoke  thy  name. 
But  can  enjoy  th^  only  till  I  meet 
The  lifted  sword,  and  reach  Achilles'  tomb. 

Exeunt  ULYSSES  and  polyxena. 

HECUBA. 

I  faint,  my  limbs  are  all  unnerv'd ;  return. 
My  daughter,  let  me  touch  that  hand  once  more. 
Leave  me  not  childless.     O,  my  friends,  I  perish ; 
Ah  would  to  Heaven  I  could  see  Spartan  Helen, 
In  the  same  state,  that  Sister  to  the  Sons 
Of  Jove,  for  by  her  beauteous  eyes,  was  Troy, 
That  prosperous  city,  with  disgrace  o'erthrown. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

L  1. 
Ye  breezes,  who  the  ships  convey, 
That  long  becalm'd  at  anchor  lay» 
Nor  dar'd  to  quit  the  strand  ; 
As  the  swift  keel  divides  the  wave. 
Say  whither  am  I  borne  a  slave, 
Ordain'd  to  tread  the  Doric  land. 
Or  Phthia,  where  beset  with  reeds, 
Apidanus,  the  Sire  of  limpid  rills. 

Winding  a-down  the  channell'd  hills, 
'  Waters  the  fruitfal  meads? 


/. 


HECUBA.  21 

I.  2. 

Or  to  that  Isle,  with  dashing  oar 
Impeird,  shall  I  my  woes  deplore. 

And  on  the  sacred  earthy 
Where  first  the  palm  and  laurel  rose. 
Memorials  of  Latona's  throes. 
Which  to  the  Twins  Divine  gave  birth, 
Teach  the  harmonious  strain  to  flow; 
With  Delos'  nypiphs  Diana's  praise  resound. 
Her  hair  with  golden  fiUet  bound. 

And  never-erring  bow  ? 

II.  1. 

Or,  pent  in  some  Athenian  tower. 
Devoted  to  Minerva's  power. 

On  the  robe's  tissued  ground 
While,  shadow'd  by  my  needle,  spread 
Expressive  forms,  in  vivid  thread. 
Picture  the  Ooddess  whirling  round 
Her  diariot  with  unrivalFd  speed  ; 
Or  represent  the  Titan's  impious  crew, 
Wboin  Jove's  red  lightnings  oyejr|;bFew, 
Those  monsters  doomed  to  bleed  i 

II.  2. 
Alas !  my  sons,  a  valiant  band. 
My  fathers,  and  my  native  land, 

Ye  shar'd  the  general  fate. 
Sack'd  by  the' Greeks,  Troy's  bulwarks  smoke. 
But  I,  constrain'd  to  bear  the  yoke. 
Shall  soon  behold  some  foreign  state. 
To  ignominious  bondage  led; 
And  leaving  vanquish'd  Asia  Europe's  slave, 
Debarr'd  an  honourable  (5)  grave. 
Ascend  the,victor^s  bed. 

(5)  Cannelli,  the  Italian  translator  of  Euripides,  ia  <Mte  of  bis  Latin 
oolses,  inteiprets  A>Xci(t»(  oAi  ^a9us^;,  pro  regiis  patriisqae  tfaakunis  seu 
domibus  tristia  loca  sortita;  tbe  mora  difiiise  paraphrase  of  Qeader  coih 


-  ^ 


Q2  HECUBA. 

TALTHYBIUS,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

TALTHYBIUS. 

Where,  O  ye  Phrygian  dams^els,  shall  I  find 
The  wretched  Hecuba,  who  erst  was  Queen 
Of lUon  ? 

CHORUM. 

Prostrate  near  you  on  the  gfouiid. 
Wrapt  in  her  mantle,  there  she  lies. 

veys  much  the  same  meaning;  but  the  word  euin  seems  to  require  a  more 
literal  version ;  and  Erasmus  renders  it,  mutam  mdrte  faces  thalami, 
which  by  no  means  accords  with  the  sentiments  expressed,  in  the  prece- 
ding part  of  tliis  ode,  by  the  Trojan  captives,  who  form  the  chorus ;  for, 
instead  of  entertaining  any  apprehensiotts  of  being  put  to  death,  they 
have  given  a  detail  of  the  occupationB  in  which  they  expected  to  be  en- 
gaged after  landing  in  Greece.  King  has  given  what  appears  to  me  the 
clearest  and  best  interpretation  of  these  words,  in  those  of  redimens  me 
morte  toro ;  and  Henry  Stephens,  iA  his  Greek  Thesaurus,  mentions  this 
passage  as  an  instance  of  the  verb  eOO^'Ao  used  (n/7tqpo^,  and  proposes  to 
read  euiu  ^aXajocoi;;  as  does  Dr.  Muaqgrave  ouJa,  in  the  genitive  case.  But 
the  expression,  as  it  now  stands.in  tlie  printed  editions,  seems  to  be  ex- 
actly a  similar  mode  of  speaking  in  the  Greek,  with  Horace's  cur  valle 
permutem  Sabink  divitias  operosiortes,,  in  the  Latin.  The  idea  here 
meant  to  be  conveyed  is,  I  doubt  not,  the  same  with  that  tdikh  ife  more 
amply  expressed  by  AAdromaehe  in  Mrgil: 

O  felix  una  ante  alias  Priameia  virgo 
Hostilem  ad  tumulum  Trojae  sub  moenibus  altis 
Jussa  mori,  quae  sortitiis  non  perttdit  idlos, 
Nee  victoris  heri  tetigit  captiva  cubile. 

Oh  only  happy  maid  of  Priam's  race. 

Whom  death  deUver'd  from  the  foe*s  embrace! 

Commanded  on  Achilles'  tomb  to  die. 

Not  forc'd  like  us  to  hard  ci^tivity. 

Or  in  a  hauj^ty  master's  arms  to  lie.  Dryden. 

The  edition  of  this  play  by  Hemy  Stephens,  in  his  Trag.  Select,  differs 
from  all  others  I  have  seen,  by  putting  this  second  Antistrophe  into  the 
mouth  of  Hecuba,  and  a  marginal  note  written,  with  a  pencil  by  the  late 
Kev.  Caesar  De  Missy,  in  the  copy  of  king's  Euripides  now  in  my  pos- 
session, mentions  this  stanza  being  also  ascribed  to  Hecuba  in  a  manu- 
script, containing,  I  think,  the  three  first  Tragedies  of  Euripides,  which, 
at  the  sale  of  his  books,  was  purchased  by  the  British  Museum.  But 
the  very  next  lines  shew  Hecuba  stretched  on  the  ground,  and  reduced 
by  her  gri^  to  a  state  of  stap^utioii. 


} 


Great  Jove ! 
What  shall  I  Say?  that  ihou  from  Heaven  look'st  down 
Upon  mankind,  or^have  they  rashly  ibim'd 
A  vain  opinion^  deeming  that  the  race 
Of  Gods  etistf  tho'  Fortniie  governs  all  ? 
Ha  1  was  not  this  the  Queen  of  wealthy  Phrygia, 
And  was  not  she  the  happy  Priam's  wife  f 
But  her  whole  city  by  the  hostile  spear 
Is  now  destroy'd,  while  she  a  slave,  bow'd  down 
By  age,  and  childless,  stretcht  upon  the  ground, 
Defiles  with  dust  her  miserable  head. 
Old  as  I  am,  yet  gladly  would  I  die 
Rather  than  Bink  into  abhorr'd  disgrace. 
Arise,  unhappy  woman,  O  lift  up 
That  feeble  body,  and  that  hoary  head. 

HECtJBA. 

Away  !  O  suffer  this  decrepid  frame 
To  rest.    Why  move  me  ?    Whosoe'er  thou  art. 
What  mean'st  thou?  why  dost  thou  molest  th'  afflicted? 

TALTHYBIUS. 

Talthybius  :  me,  the  Herald  of  the  Greeks, 
O  woman,  Agamemnon  bath  dispatch'd 
To  fetch  you. 

HECUBA. 

Com'st  thou,  by  the  Greeks  ordain'd, 
My  friend,  to  slay  me  ^ilso  at  the  tomb  f 
How  welcome  were  such  tidings ;  let  us  go. 
With  speed  conduct  me  thither.  . 

TALTHYBIUS. 

To  inter 
Your  daughter,  I  invite  you  ;  both  the  sons 
Of  Atreus,  and  the  assembled  Grecian  host. 
Have  sent  me  for  that  purpose. 

HECUBA. 

Ah  !  what  say'st  thou  ? 
Thon  com'st  not  to  inform  me  X  must  die. 


M  HECUBA. 

But  to  unfold  the  most  disastrous  tidings* 
Then  art  thou  lost^  my  daughter,  from  the  arms 
Of  thy  fond  mother  torn ;  of  thee>  my  child 
Am  I  berefL     But  how  did  ye  destroy  her, 
Respectfully,  or  with  the  ruthless  hand 
Of  hostile  rage  i    Speak,  tho'  it  wound  my  souL 

TALTHYBIU8. 

A  second  time,  in  pity  to  your  daughter. 
You  make  me  weep ;  for  now  while  I  relate 
Her  sufferings,  tears  bedew  these  swimming  eyes. 
Such  as  I  shed  when  at  the  tomb  she  perish'd. 
To  view  the  sacrifice  the  Grecian  host 
Were  all  assembled  :  taking  by  the  hand 
Polyxena,  on  the  sepulcral  hilloc 
Achilles'  son  then  plac'd  her:  1  drew  near. 
Attended  by  the  chosen  youths  of  Greece, 
To  hold  the  tender  victim,  and  prevent 
Her  struggles  :  But  Achilles's  son,  uplifting 
With  both  bis  hands  a  cup  of  massive  gold, 
Pour'd  forth  libations  to  his  breathless  Sire ; 
And  gave  a  sign  to  me,  thro'  the  whole  camp 
Strict  silence  ^o  proclaim,     I  in  the  midst 
Stood  up  and  cried ;  "  Be  mute,  ye  Greeks,  let  none 
*'  Presume  to  speak,  observe  a  general  silence." 
The  troops  obey 'd,  and  thro'  their  crowded  rankt 
Not  e'en  a  breath  was  heard,  while  in  these  words 
The  Chief  expressed  his  purpose ;  *'  Son  of  Peleus, 
*^  My  father,  the  propitiatory  drops 
"*'  Of  these  libations  which  invite  the  dead 
^  Accept ;  O  come  and  quaff  the  crimson  blood 
"  Of  this  pure  virgin,  whom  to  thee  all  Greece 
"  And  1  devote  ;  be  thou  benign,  O  grant  us 
''Securely  to  weigh  anchor,  to  unbind 
''  Our  halsers,  and  on  all  of  us  bestow 
'*  A  happy  voyage  to  our  native  land 
**  From  vanquished  Troy.*'  He  ceas'd,  and  in  his  prayer 


/ 
\ 


HECUBA.  85 

Join'd  the  whole  army^  when  the  Chief  unsheathed 

His  golden-hilted  sword^  and  gave  a  sign 

To  chosen  youths  of  Greece  to  hold  the  Virgin, 

Which  she  perceiv'd^  and  in  these  words  address*d 

The  warriors ;  *'  O  ye  Argives,  who  laid  waste 

**  My  city,  willingly  I  die,  let  no  man 

*'  Confine  these  arms,  I  with  undaunted  breast 

*'  Will  meet  th^  strok^,     I  by  the  Gods  conjure  you 

*'  Release,  and  slay  me  as  my  rank  demands 

*'  Like  one  bom  free  ;  for  1  from  mighty  kmgs 

''  Descend,  and  in  the  shades  beneath  should  blush 

'*  To  be  accounted  an  ignoble  slave." 

Thro'  all  the  host  ran  murmurs  of  absent. 

And  royal  Agamemnon  bade  the  youths 

Release  the  Virgin;  they  their  monarch's  voice. 

Soon  as  they  Heard,  obey'd ;  our  Lord's  behests 

The  Princess  too  revering,  from  her  shoulder 

Down  to  her  waist  rent  off  the  purple  robe^ 

Display'd  her  bosom  like  some  statue  form'd 

In  exquisite  proportion,  and  to  earth 

Bending  her  knee,  in  these  affecting  words 

£xpress'd  herself;  "  If  at  my  breast  thou  aim 

'*  The  wound,  strike  here ;  if  at  my  neck,  that  neck 

*'  Is  ready  bar*d."     Half  willing,  and  half  loth. 

Thro'  pity  for  the  maid,  he  with  keen  steel 

Sever'd  the  arteries ;  streams  of  blood  gush'd  forth  : 

Yet  even  thus,  tho'  at  her  latest  gasp. 

She  shew'd  a  strong  solicitude  to  fall 

With  decency,  while  stood  the  gazing  host 

Around  her  :  soon  as  thro'  the  ghastly  wound 

Her  soul  had  issued,  every  Greek  was  busied 

In  various  labors ;  o'er  the  corse  some  strew'd 

The  verdant  foliage,  others  rcc.r'd  a  pyre 

With  trunks  of  fir :  but  he  who  nothing  brought. 

From  him  who  with  funereal  ornament 

Was  laden,  heard  these  taunts;  "  O  slothful  wretch, 

^  Bear'st  th/ou  no  robe,  no  garland,  hast  thou  nought 


«6  HECUBA. 

**  To  give  in  lionor  of  this  generous  Maid  ?* 
Such  their  encomiums  on  thy  breathless  daughter. 
You,  of  all  women,  who  in  such  a  child 
Were  happiest,  now  most  wretched  I  behold. 

<!;UORUS. 

Fate,  the  behests  of  the  immortal  Gods 
Accomplishing,  with  tenfold  weight  hath  caus'd 
This  dreadful  curse  to  fall  on  Priam's  house^ 
And  on  our  city, 

HECUBA. 

Midst  unnumbered  ills 
I  know  not,  O  my  daughter,*  whither  first 
To  turn  my  eyes,  for  if  on  one  I  touch. 
Another  hinders  me,  and  I  again,         • 
By  a  long  train  of  woes  succeeding  woes. 
To  some  fresh  object  am  from  thence  calFd  off; 
Nor  can  I  from  my  tortur'd  soul  efface 
The  grief  thy  fate  occasions ;  yet  the  tale 
Of  thy  exalted  courage  checks  my  groans. 
Which  else  had  been  immoderate.     No  just  cause 
Have  we  for  wonder,  if  the  barren  land 
Chear'd  by  Heaven's  influence  with  benignant  suns 
Yields  plenteous  harvests,  while  a  richer  soil 
Deprived  of  every  necessary  aid 
Bears  weeds  alone.     But  midst  the  human  race 
The  wicked  man  is  uniformly  wicked. 
The  good  still  virtuous,  nor  doth  evil  fortune 
Corrupt  his  soul ;  the  same  unsullied  worth 
He  still  retains.     Is  this  great  difference  owing 
To  birth,  or  education  ?  We  are  taught 
What  virtue  is,  by  being  nurtur*d  well,  ^ 
And  he  who  thoroughly  hath  learnt  this  lesson. 
Guided  by  the  unerring  rule  of  right. 
Can  thence  discern  what's  base. — Mv  soul  in  vaitt 
Hath  hazarded  these  incoherent  thoughts. 
But,  O  Talthybius,  to  xhe  Greeks  repair. 
And  strict  injunctions  give,  that  no  man  touch 


HECUBA.  «r 

My  daughter's  corse,  but  let  the  gazing  crowd 
Be  driven  away.     For  in  a  numerous  host 
Its  multitudes  break  loose  from  all  restraints. 
The  outrages  of  mariners  exceed 
Devouring  flame,  and  whoso*er  abstains 
From  mischief,  by  his  comrades  is  despis'd. 
But,  O  my  aged  servant,  take  and  dip 
That  urn  in  ocean's  waves,  and  hither  bring, 
Fill'd  with  its  water,  that  the  last  dad  rites 
To  my  departed  daughter  I  may  pay, 
And  lave  the  corse  of  that  unwedded  bride. 
Of  that  afiianc'd  virgin  :  but  alas  ! 
Whence  with  such  costly  gifts  as  she  deserves. 
Her  tomb  can  I  adorn  ?  My  present  state 
Aflbrds  them  not,  but  what  it  doth  afford 
Will  I  bestow,  and  from  the  captive  dames 
Appointed  to  attend  me,  who  reside 
Within  these  tents,  some  ornaments  collect. 
If,  unobserv'd  by  their  new  masters,  aught 
They  have  secreted*     O  ye  splendid  domes. 
Ye  palaces  once  happy,  which  contained 
All  that  was  rich  and  fair ;  O  Priam  thou 
The  sire,  and  I  who  was  the  aged  mother 
Of  an  illustrious  race,  how  are  we  dwindled 
To  nothing,  stripp'd  of  all  our  antient  pride ! 
Yet  do  we  glory,  some  in  mansions  stor'd 
With  gold  abundant,  others  when  distinguished 
Among  the  citizens  by  sounding  titles. 
Vain  are  the  schemes  which  with  incessant  care 
We  frame,  and  all  our  boastful  words  are  vain. 
The  happiest  man  is  he  who,  by  no  ill 
O'ertaken,  passes  thro' life's  fleeting  day. 

Exit  HECUBA. 


. .  .^. . 


£t  HECUBA. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

L 

(6)  By  Heaven  was  my  devoted  head 
Menac'd  with  impending  ill,    , 
What  time  the  pines,  whose  branches  spread 
Their  tutelary  shade  o'er  Ida's  hill. 

Were  laid  by  Phrygian  Paris  low. 
That  his  adventurous  bark  might  stem  the  tide. 
From  Sparta's  coast  to  waft  the  fairest  bride 
On  whom  the  solar  beams  their  golden  radiance  throw. 

n. 

Surrounding  labors  were  at  hand 

Leagu'd  with  the  behests  of  fate ; 

Then  did  such  madness  seize  the  land. 
As  call'd  down  vengeance  from  a  foreign  state. 

The  royal  Swain  with  dazzled  eyes 
Gave  that  decree,  the  source  of  all  our  woes. 
When  from  three  rival  Goddesses  he  chose 
Bright  Venus,  and  pronounc'd  that  she  deserved  the  prize. 

nr. 

The  spear  and  death  hence  rag'd  around, 
Hence  were  my  mansions  levell'd  with  the  ground ; 

Staining  with  tears  Eurotas'  tide. 
Too  deeply  griev'd  to  share  the  victor's  pride. 

The  Spartan  virgin  too  in  vain 
Bewails  her  favour'd  youth  untimely  slain, 

(6)  The  earliest  Latin  translations  I  hrnvt  seen  firom  Euripides  are  thit 
Tragedy,  by  G.  Anselm,  published  singly  in  4to,  at  Parma,  in  Jane  1506, 
and  Hecuba,  with  Iphigenia  in  Aulis,  by  Erasmus,  printed  in  small  folio, 
at  Paris,  in  September  1506 ;  the  stanzas  now  before  us,  which  the  Poet 
puts  into  the  mouUi  of  the  Chorus,  are  transited,  with  some  additions, 
by  Marinus,  and  thrown  into  twelve  stamas  of  Saphic  metre,  which  he 
entitles  ^  Hecubae  Captivae  querela,"  and  inserts  in  his  Hjrmns,  p.  166, 
PmiSy  1537 :  Buchanan  has  transplanted  much  from  hence  and  the  Iph|p_ 
genia  m  Aulis,  into  his  Jephthes. 


HECUBA.  29 

While,  sprinkling  ashes  o'er  their  vest 
And  hoary  head^  the  matrons  bend 
O'er  their  sons'  urns;  their  groans  to  Heaven  ascend. 
They  tear  their  cheeks,  and  beat  their  miserable  breast. 

ATTENDANT,  CHORUS. 

ATTENDANT. 

Where  is  the  wretched  Hecuba,  my  friends. 
Who  in  her  woes  surpasses  all,  or  male. 
Or  of  the  female  race  i  her  none  can  rob 
Of  her  just  claim,  pre-eminence  in  grief. 

CHORUS. 

^    With  the  harsh  sounds  of  that  ill-boding  tongue, 
O  wretch,  what  mean'st  thou  ?  wilt  thou  never  cea-li i. 
To  be  th'  unwelcome  herald  of  affliction  i 

ATTENDANT, 

M«8t  grievous  are  the  tidings  which  I  bring 
To  Hecuba,  nor  easy  were  the  task 
In  words  auspicious  to  make  known  to  mortals 
Such  dire  calamities. 

CHORTTS. 

From  her  apartment 
She  seasonably  comes  forth  to  give  thee  audience. 

HECUBA,  ATTENDANT,  CHORUS. 

ATTENDANT. 

O  most  unfortunate,  whose  woes  exceed 
All  that  the  power  of  language  can  express, 
My  Queen,  you  perish,  doom'd  no  more  to  view 
The  blessed  light ;  of  children,  husband,  city. 
Bereft  wd  ruin'd. 

HEOUBA. 

Nothing  hast  thou  told 
But  what  I  knew,-  thou  only  com'st  t'insult  me ; 
Yet  wherefore  dost  thou  bring  to  me  this  corse 
Of  my  Polyxena,  o'er  whom  'twas  said 


30  HECUBA. 

The  Grecian  host  with  pious  zeal  all  vied 
To  heap  a  tomb? 

ATTENDANT. 

She  knows  not,  but  laments 
For  the  deceased  Polyxena  alone. 
And  to  her  recent  woes  is  yet  a  stranger. 

HECUBA* 

Ah,  bring'st  thou  the  inspired  prophetic  head. 
And  the  dishevel'd  tresses  of  Cassandra? 

ATTENDANT. 

You  speak  of  one  yet  living,  but  bewail  not 
This  the  deceased :  survey  the  naked  corse 
Of  him  whose  death  to  you  will  seem  most  strange 
And  most  unlook^d  for. 

HECUBA. 

Ha,  I  see  my  son^ 
My  dearest  Polydore,  whom  he  of  Thrace 
Beneath  his  roof  protected.    I  am  ruin'd  ; 
Now  utterly  I  perish.    O  my  son, 
For  thee,  for  thee  L  wake  the  frantic  dirge. 
By  that  malignant  Demgn  which  assum'd 
Thy  voice,  thy  semblance,  recently  apprized 
Of  this  calamity. 

ATTENDANT. 

O  wretched  niother. 
Know  you  then  what  was  your  son's  fate  ? 

HECUBA. 

A  sight 
Incredible  and  pew  to  me  is  that 
Which  I  behold  :  for  from  my  former  wq^b 
Spring  woes  in  long  succession,  and  the  day 
When  I  shall  cease  to  weep,  shall  cease  to  groan. 
Will  never  come. 

CHOHUS. 

The  woes  which  we  endure 
Alas !  are  dreadful. 


HECUBA.  31 

HECUBA. 

O  my  son,  tliou  son 
Of  an  ill  fated  mother,  by  what  death 
Didst  thou  expire  ?  thro' what  disastrous  cause 
Here  liest  thou  prostrate  i  ah,  what  bloody  hand — ^? 

ATTENDANT. 

I  know  not :  on  the  shore  his  corse  I  found. 

HBCUBA. 

Cast  up  by  the  impetuous  waves,  or  pierced 
With  murderous  spear  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

The  surges  of  the  deep 
Had  thrown  it  on  the  sand. 

HECUBA. 

Alas !  too  well 
I  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  dream 
Which  to  these  eyes  appear'd  :  the  spectre  borne 
On  sable  pinions  nd  illusion  prov'd. 
When,  O  my  son,  thee,  thee  it  represented 
No  longer  dwelling  in  the  realms  of  light. 

CHORUS. 

Instructed  by  that  vision^  canst  thou  name 
The  murderer  ? 

HECUBA. 

Twas  my  friend,  the  Thracian  King, 
With  whom  in  secresy  his  aged  Sire 
Had  plac'd  him. 

CHOKUS. 

Hal  what  mean'st  thou  ?  to  possess 
That  gold  by  slaying  him  ? 

HECUBA.^ 

O,  'twas  a  deed 
Unutterable,  a  deed  without  a  name, 
Surpassing  all  astonishment,  unholy. 
And  not  to  be  endur'd*     Where  now  the  laws 
Of  hospitality  ?   Accursed  mau; 


3€  HECUBA* 

How  cruelly  ha«t  thou  with  reeking  sword 
Transpiere'd  this  unresisting  boy,  nor  heard 
The  gentle  voice  of  pity ! 

*      CHORUS* 

Hapless  Queen, 
How  hath  some  Demon,  thy  malignant  foe, 
3?ender'd  thee  of  all  mortals  the  most  wretched  : 
But  I  behold  great  Agamemnon  come. 
And  therefore,  O  my  friends,  let  us  be  silent. 

AGAMEMNON,  .HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Whence  this  delay?  why  go  you  not  f  inter, 

0  Hecuba,  your  daughter^  whom  Talthybius 
Directed  that  no  Greek  might  be  allow'd 

To  touch  ?  We  therefore  have  with  your  request 

Complied,  nor  mov'd  the  corse.    But  you  remain 

Inactive,  which  I  wonder  at,  and  come 

To  fetch  you,  for  each  previous  solemn  rite 

That  best  might  pleiase,  if  aught  such  rites  can  please. 

Have  we  performed.     But  ha,  what  Trojan  youth 

Do  I  behold  lie  breathless  in  the  tent  i 

For  that  he  was  no  Greek,  the  garb  informs  me 

In  which  he's  clad. . 

HECUBA. 

Thou  wretch,  for  of  myself 

1  speak,  when  thee,  O  Hecuba,  I  name ; 
What  shall  I  do,  at  Agamemnon's  knees 
Fall  prostrate,  or  in  silence  bear  my  woes? 

'     AGAMBMNOK. 

Why  weep,  with  face  averted,  yet  refuse 
T*  inform  me  what  hath  happen'd  ?  who  is  he? 

HECUBA. 

But  from  his  knees,  if,  deeming  me  a  slave 
And  enemy,  the  Monarch  should  repell  me. 
This  would  but  make  my  sorrows  yet  more  poignant* 


HECUBA.  33 

AGAMEMNON. 

I  am  no  seer,  nor  can  I  uninfortn'd 
Trace  out  the  secret  purpose  of  your  soul. 

HECUBA. 

Am  I  mistaken  then,  while  I  suppose 
A  foe  in  him  who  doth  not  mean  me  ill  i 

AGAMEMNON. 

If  'tis  your  wish  I  should  not  he  apprized. 
We  hoth  are  of  obe  mind  ;  you  will  not  speak. 
And  I  as  little  am  dispos'd  to  hear. 

HECUBA. 

Without  his  aid  no  vengeatice  for  my  child 
Can  I  obtain  :  yet  why  deliberate  thus  ? 
Prosper  or  fail  I  must  take  courage  now. 
O  royal  Agamemnon,  by  those  knees 
A  suppliant  I. conjure  you,  by  that  beard. 
And  thdt  right  hand,  rictorious  o'er  your  foes. 

AGAMEMNON. 

What  do  you  wish  for?  To  obtain  your  freedom  i 
This  were  not  difficult. 

HECUBA. 

No,  give  me  vengeance 
On  yonder  guilty  wretch,  and  I  am  willing 
To  linger  out  the  remnant  of  my  life 
In  servitude. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Then  why  implore  our  aid  ? 

HECUBA. 

For  reasons  you  suspect  not.     Do  you  see 
That  breathless  corse  o'er  which  my  tears  I  shed  ? 

AGAMEMNON. 

The  corse  I  see;  but  cannot  comprehend 
What  follows  next. 

HECUBA. 

Him  erst  I  bore  and  nurtured. 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  HECUBA. 

AGAMEMNON* 

Is  the  deceas*d,  O  miserable  Dame, 
One  of  your  children  ? 

HECUBA. 

Not  of  those  who  fell 
Beneath  Troy's  walls, 

AGAMEMNON. 

What !  had  you  other  sons  ? 

HECUBA. 

Yes^ .  him  you  see,  born  in  an  evil  hour 

AGAMEMNON.  / 

But  where  was  he  when  Ilion  was  destroyed  i 

HECUBA. 

His  Father,  apprehensive  of  his  death, 
Convey'd  him  thence. 

AGAMEMNON. 

From  all  the  other  children 
Which  then  he  had,  where  plac'd  he  this  apart  i 

HECUBA. 

In  this  same  region  where  his  corse  was  found. 

AGAM^EMNON. 

With  Polymestor,  sovereign  of  the  land  ? 

HECUBA. 

He,  to  preserve  that  execrable  gold. 
Was  hither  sent. 

AGAMEMNON. 

I 

But,  by  what  ruthless  hand, 
And  how,  was  he  dispatched  ? 

HECUBA. 

By  whom  beside  ? 
The  murderer  was  his  friend,  the  Thracian  King 

AGAMEMNON. 

Was  he  thus  eager  ?    O  abandoned  wretch. 
To  seize  the  gold ! 

HECUBA. 

E'en  thus ;  soon  as  he  knew 
Troy  was  o'erthrown. 


HECUBA,  55 

A6AMBMNON.* 

But  where /did  you  discover 
The  body^  or  who  brought  it  ^ 

HECUBA* 

On  the  shore 
This  servant  found  it^ 

AGAMEMNON. 

Or  in  quest  of  him 
Or  other  task  then  busied  ? 

HECUBA. 

To  fetch  water 
To  lave  Polyxena's  remains^  she  went. 

AGAMEMNON. 

When  he  had  slain  him^  it  appears,  his  friend 
Did  cast  him  forth. 

HECUBA. 

He  to  the  waves  consigned 
The  stripling's  mangled  corse. 

AGAMEMNON. 

O  wretched  woman, 
Surrounded  by  immeasurable  woes. 

HECUBA. 

I  am  undone;  no  farther  ill  remains 
For  me  t'  experience. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Ah  !  what  woman  e*er 
Was  bom  to  such  calamities  ? 

« 

HECUBA. 

Not  one 
Exists,  whose  sorrows,  equal  mine,  unless 
You  of  Calamity  herself  wpuld  speak. 
Yet  hear  the  motive  why  I  clasp  your  knees. 
If  I  appear  to  merit  what  J  suffer, 
I  must  be  patient;  but  if  not,  avenge 
My  wrongs  upon  the  man  who  'gainst  his  guest 
Such  treachery  could  commit,  who,  nor  the  Gods 

o  2 


36  HECUBA. 

Of  Erebus  beneath,  nor  thote  wha  rule 

In  Heaven  above  regarding,  this  vile  deed. 

Did  perpetrate,  e'en  he  with  whom  I  oft 

Partook  the  feast,  on  whom  I  shower'd  each  bounty, 

Esteeming  him  the  firdt  of  all  my  friends; 

Yet,  when  at  Ilion's  palace  with  respect 

He  had  been  treated,  a  deliberate  scheme 

Of  murder  forming,  he  destroyed  my  son. 

On  whom  he  deign'd  not  to  bestow  a  tomb. 

But  threw  his  corse  into  the  briny  deep. 

Tho'  I  indeed  am  feeble,  and  a  slave. 

Yet  mighty  are  the  Gods,  and  by  their  law 

The  world  is  rulM  :  for  by  that  law  we  learn 

That  there  are  Gods,  and  can  mark  out  the  bounds 

Of  justice  and  injustice;  if  such  law 

To  you  transmitted,  be  infring'd,  if  they 

Who  kill  their  guests,  or  dare  with  impious  hand 

To  violate  the  altars  of  the  Gods, 

Unpunished  scape,  no  equity  is  left 

Among  mankind.    Deeming  such  base  connivance 

Unworthy  of  yourself,  revere  my  woes. 

Have  pity  on  me,  like  a  painter  take 

Your  stand  to  view  me,  and  observe  the  number 

Of  my  aflSictions;  once  was  I  a  Queen, 

But  now  am  I  a  slave ;  in  many  a  son 

I  once  was  rich,  but  now  am  I  both  old 

And  of  my  children  reft,  without  a  city. 

Forlorn,  and  of  all  mortals  the  most  wretched. 

But  whither  would  you  go  ?  With  you  I  seem 

To  have  no  interest.    Miserable  me ! 

Why  do  we  mortals  by  assiduous  toil. 

And  such  a  painful  search  as  their  importaqce 

Makes  requisite,  all  other  arts  attain. 

Yet  not  enough  intent  on  the  due  knowledge 

Of  that  sole  Empress  of  the  human  soul 

Persuasion,  no  rewards  bestow  on  those 

Who  teach  us  by  insinuating  words 


*.*! 


HECUBA.  37 

How  to  proctki'e  our  wishes?   who  can  trust 

Hereafter  in  prosperity  ?   That  band 

Of  my  heroic  Sons  is  now  no  more^ 

Myself  a  captive^  am  led  forth  to  tasks 

Unseemly,  attd  e*en  now  these  eyes  behold 

The  air  obscured  by  (7)  Ilion's  rising  smoke. 

It  might  be  vaip  perhaps,  were  I  to  found 

A  claim  to/jicur  assistance  on  your  loye  : 

Yet  must  I  speak :  my  Daughter,  who  in  Troy 

Wasi  caird  Cassandra,  the  prophetic  dame. 

Partakes  your  bed ;  and  how  those  rapturous  nights 

Will  you  acknowledge,  or  to  her  how  shew 

Your  gratitude  for  all  the  fond  embraces 

"Which  she  bestows,  O  King,  or  in  her  stead 

To  me  her  mother  ?     In  the  soul  of  man 

Th*  endearments  of  the  night,  by  darkness  veil'd. 

Create  the  strongest  interest.    To  my  tale 

Now  listen  :  do  you  see  that  breathless  corse  i 

Each  act  of  kindness  which  to  him  is  shewn, 

Upon  a  kinsman  of  the  Dame  you  love 

(7)  The  inconsiderable  widtli  of  the  Hellespont,  now  called  the  strait 
of  the  Dardanelles,  which  divides  the  Thracian  Chersonesus  from  the 
Continent  of  Aua,  on  which  Troy  stood  not  far  from  the  coast,  makes 
the  bteral  truth  of  this  circumstance  by  no  means  improbable.  It  was 
very  natural  for  the  Greeks,  who  had  only  passed  this  narrow  frith,  and 
not  yet  lanched  their  fleet  into  the  main  ocean,  to  speak  of  tiie  voyage 
from  Troy  to  their  native  land  as  yet  unperformed :  and  after  examining 
the  passages  pointed  ou.t  by  Dr.  Musgrave,  as  instances  of  Euripides  ha- 
ving repeatedly  changed  the  scene  from  Thrace  to  Troy,  I  can  consider 
them  only,  as  inaccuracies  of  expression,  and  by  no  means  sufficient  to 
autiiorise  the.';harge  of  his  having  so  grossly  and  repeatedly  violated  the 
unity  of  place;  to  preserve  which,  we  must  indeed  suppose  the  tomb  of 
Achilles,  where  Polyxena  was  sacrificed,  to  have  been  erected  in  the  do- 
minions of  Polymestor,  and  not  on  the  Sigeian  promontory,  where  Strabo 
has  placed  it:  but  the  account  given  of  that  hero's  interment  in  tlie  last 
book  of  the  Odyssey,  is  worded  in  so  vague  a  manner,  it  being  only 
there  said  that  las  countrymen  bore  his  body  to  the  ships,  and  raised  a 
tomb  on  the  shore  of  the  Hellespont,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  succeeding 
writer,  treading  closcjy  in  the  steps  of  Homer,  to  understand  by  what  he 
there  says,  that  the  ships  conveyed  the  body  of  Achilles  to  the  opposite 
Bhore  of  the  HeUespont,  which  was  the  Thracian  Cliorsonesus. 


3S  HEGtJBA. 

Will  be  conferred.    Bat,  in  one  point  my  speech 
Is  yet  deficient.     By  the  wondrons  arts 
Of  Da&dalus,  or  some  benignant  God^ 
Could  I  give  voice  to  each  arm,  hand,-  and  bair. 
And  each  extremest  joints  they  round  your  knees 
Should  cling  together,  and  together  weep,      lo 
At  once  combining  with  a  thousand  tongues*  ' 
O  monarch,  O  thou  light  of  Greece,  comply. 
And  stretch  forth  that  avenging  arm  to  aid 
An  aged  woman,  tho'  she  be  a  thing 
Of  nought,  O  succour :  for  the  good  man's  duty 
Is  to  obey  the  dread  behests  of  justice,     ■:; 
And  ever  punish  those  who  act  amiss. 

ciroKU5. 
'Tis  wonderful,  indeed,  how  all  events 
Happen  to  mortals,  a'nd  the  dread  behests 
Of  fate,  uncircumscribM  by  human  laws. 
Constrain  us  to  form  amities  with  those 
To  whom  the  most  inveterate  hate  we  bore. 
And  into  foes  convert  our  former  friends. 

A6AMBMNON. 

To  you,  O  Hecuba,  your  Son,  your  fortunes. 
And  your  entreaties,  is  my  pity  due. 
I  in  obedience  to  the  Gods  and  Justice 
Wish  to  avenge  you  on  this  impious,  friend. 
Could  I  appear  your  interests  to  espouse^ 
Without  the  troops  suspecting  that  I  slay 
The  Thracian  monarch  for  Cassandra's  sake ; 
My  terrors  hence  arise ;  the  host  esteem 
Him  our  ally-  and  the  deceased  a  foe  : 
What  tho'  you  held  him  dear,  his  fate,  the  loss 
Of  you  alone,  ailects  not  the  whole  camp. 
Reflect  too,  that  you  find  me  well  dispos'd 
To  share  your  toils/  and  in  your  cause  exert 
My  utmost  vigour;  but,  what  makes  me  slow» 
Is  a  well  grounded  fear  of  blame  from  Greece, 


9 

HECUBA. 

Alas !  there's  no  man  free :  for  some  are  slaves 
To  gold^  to  fortune  others,  and  the  rest^ 
The  multitude  or  written  laws  restrain 
From  acting  as  their  better  judgement  dictates. 
But  since  you  are  alarm'd,  and  to  the  rabble 
Yield  an  implicit  deference,  from  that  fear 
I  will  release  you ;  only  to  my  schemes 
Be  privy,  if  some  mischief  I  contrive 
Against  the  murderer  of  my  Son  :  but  take 
No  active  part.     If,  when  the  Thracian  suffers. 
As  he  shall  suffer,  'mongst  the  Greeks  a  tumult 
Break  forth,  or  they  attempt  to  succour  him. 
Restrain  them)  without  seeming  to  befriend 
My  interests.    As  for  what  remains,  rely 
On  me,  and  I  will  manage  all  things  well. 

AGAMEMNON. 

How  then  ?  what  mean  you  ?  With  that  aged  hand 
To  wield  a  sword,  and  take  awav  the  life 
Of  that  Barbarian,  or  by  drugs  endued 
With  magic  power?  the  help  you  need,  what  arts 
Can  furnish  i  what  strong  arm  have  you  to  fight 
Your  battles  ?  whence  will  you  procure  allies  ? 

HECUBA. 

These  tents  conceal  a  groupe  of  Trojan  Dames. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Mean  you  those  captives  whom  the  Greeks  have  seized 

HECUBA. 

With  them  I  on  the  murderer  will  inflict 
Due  punishment. 

AGAMEMNON. 

How  can  the  female  sex 
0*er  men  obtain  a  conquest  ? 

HECUBA. 

Numbers  strike 
A  foe  with  terror,  and  the  wiles  of  women 
Are  hard  to  be  withstood* 


40  HECUBA. 

AG4MBMN0N. 

They  may  strike  terror. 
But  in  their  courage  I  no  trust  can  place. 

HECUBA. 

What  ?  did  not  women  slay  -Sgyptus'  Sons, 
And  in  their  rage  exterminate  each  male 
From  Lemnos  i    But  leave  me  to  find  out  means 
How  to  effect  my  purpose.    Thro*  the  camp 
In  safety  this  my  faithful  servant  send ; 
And  thou,  when  to  liiy  Thracian  friend  thou  com'st,  -  * 
Say,  ^'  Hecuba,  erst  Queen  of  Troy,  invites 
'^  Thee  and  thy  children,  on  thy  own  account, 
"  No  less  than  hers,  because  she  to  thy  Sons 
^^  And  thee  the  self-same  message  must  deliver.'* 
The  newly-slain  Polyxena's  interment 
Defer,  O  Agamemnon  ;  in  one  ilame 
That  when  their  kindred  corses  are  consumed  ; 
The  Brother  with  the  Sister,  who  demand 
A  twofold  portion  of  their  Mother's  grief. 
Together  may  be  buried  in  one  grave. 

AGAMEMNON. 

These  rites  shall  be  performed,  which  could  the  troops 
Set  sail,  I  needs  must  have  denied  :  but  now. 
Since  Neptjime  sends  not  an  auspicious  breeze. 
Expecting  a  more  seasonable  voyage. 
Here  must  we  wait.     But  may  success  attend  you ; 
For  'tis  the  common  interest  of  mankind. 
Of  every  individual,  every  state. 
That  he  who  hath  transgress'd  should  suffer  ill. 
And  Fortune  crown  the  efforts  of  the  virtuous. 

[Exit  AGAMEMNON. 
CHORUS. 

1.  1. 

No  more,  O  Troy,  thy  dreaded  ftame 
Conspicuous  in  tlie  lists  of  fajjae. 


HECUBA.  41 

Midst  fortresses  impregnable  shall  standi 
In  such  thick  clouds  an  armed  host 
Poors  terrors  from  the  Grecian  coast^ 
And  wastes  thy  vanquished  land  : 
Shorn  from  thy  rampir'd  brow  the  crown 

Of  turrets  fell ;  thy  psdaces  overspread 
With  smoke  lie  waste^  no  more  I  tread 
Thy  wonted  streets,  my  native  tQ^rji, 

I  perish'd  at  the  midnight  hour^ 
When,  aided  by  the  banquet's  power. 
Sleep  o'er  my  eyes  his  earliest  influence  shed  ; 
Retiring  from  the  choral  song 
The  sacrifice  and  festive  throng, 
Stretcht  on  the  downy  bed 
The  bridejgroom  indolently  lay. 
His  massive  spear  suspended  on  the  beam. 
No  more  he  saw  the  helmets  gleam. 
Or  nautic  troops  in  dread  array. 

n.  !• 
While  me  the  golden  mirror's  aid. 
My  flowing  tresses  taught  to  braid 
In  graceful  ringlets  with  a  fillet  bound. 
Just  aa  I  cast  my  robe  aside^ 
And  sought  the  couch ;  extending  wide 
Thro'  every  street  this  sound 
Was  heard;  *^  O  when,  ye  sons  of  Greece, 
'*  This  nest  of  robbers  levell'd  with  the  plain, 
''  Will  ye  behold  your  homes  again  ? 
''  When  shall  these  tedious  labours  cease  ?** 

n.2. 

Then  from  my  couch  up  starting,  drest 
Like  Spartan  nymph  in  zoneless  vest, 
At  Dian's  shrine  an  ineffectual  prayer 
Did  I  address ;  for  hither  led. 
First  having  view'd  my  Husband  dead, 
Full  oft  I  in  despair. 


42  HECUBA. 

As  the  proud  vessel  sail'd  from  land^ 
Look'd  back^  and  saw  my  native  walls  laid  low;^ 
Then  fainting  with  excess  of  woe 
At  length  lost  sight  of  Ilion's  strand, 

III. 

Helen  that  Sister  to  the  sons  of  Jove, 
And  Paris  Ida's  swain. 

With  my  curses  still  pursuing. 

For  to  them  I  owe  my  ruin. 

Me  they  from  my  country  drove. 

Never  to  return  again. 

By  that  detested  spousal  rite 

On  which  Hymen  never  smil'd. 
No,  'twas  some  Demon  who  with  lewd  delight 

Their  frantic  souls  beguil'd  : 

Her  may  ocean's  waves  no  more 

Waft  to  her  paternal  shore. 

POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

POLYMESTOR. 

For  thee,  O  Priam,  my  unhappy  friend, 
And  you,  my  dearest  Heeuba,  I  weep, 
Beholding  your  distress,  your  city  taken. 
Your  Daughter  newly  slain :  alas !  there's  nought 
To  be  relied  on  ;  fame  is  insecure. 
Nor  can  the  prosperous  their  enjoyments  guard 
Against  a  change  of  Fortune,  for  the  Gods 
Backward  and  forward  turn  her  wavering  wheel. 
And  introduce  confusion  in  the  world. 
That  we,  because  we  know  not  will  happen. 
May  worship  them.     But  of  what  use  are  plaints 
Which  have  no  virtue  to  remove  our  woes  i 
If  you  my  absence  censure,  be  appeas'd. 
For  in  the  midst  of  Thracia's  wide  domains 
I  from  these  coasts  was  distant  at  the  time 
Of  your  arrival :  soon  as  I  return'd. 
When  from  the  palace  I  was  issuing  forthj 


HECUBA.  43 

This  your  attendant  met  me^  and  delivered 
The  message^  hearing  which^  I  hither  came. 

HECUBA. 

O  Polymestor,  wretched  as  I  am, 
I  blush  to  see  thy  face  ;  because  thou  erst 
In  happier  days  didst  know  me^  I  with  shame 
Appear  before  thee  in  my  present  fortunes. 
Nor  can  I  look  at  thee  with  stedfast  eyes  : 
But  this  thou  will  not  deem  to  be  a  mark 
Of  enmity :  the  cause  of  such  behaviour 
Is  only  custom,  which  forbids  our  sex 
To  gaze  on  men; 

POLYMESTOR. 

No  wonder  you  thus  act 
Under  such  circumstances.     But  what  need 
Have  you  of  me,  and  wherefore  did  you  send* 
To  fetch  me  from  the  palace  ? 

UECUBA. 

I  in  private 
A  secret  of  importance  would  disclose 
To  thee  and  to  thy  children.     From  these  tents 
Give  orders  for  thy  followers  to  depart. 

POLYMESTOR.  (to  hts  attendants,  who  retire,) 
Withdraw  ;  this  solitary  spot  is  safe. 
For  you  and  the  confederate  Grecian  host 
Are  all  attach'd  to  me.     But  ^tis  incumbent 
On  you  t'  inform  me  what  my  prosperous  fortunes 
Can  yield  to  succour  my  unhappy  friends! 
For  this  is  what  I  wish  to  do. 

HECUBA. 

Say  first. 
If  he  my  Son,  whom  this  maternal  band 
And  his  fond  Father  in  thy  mansions  plac'd^ 
My  Polydore  yet  live.     Til  then  pursue 
My  questions. 

POLYMESTOR. 

Yes,  in  him  you  still  are  blest. 


44  HECUBA. 

HECUBA. 

H('W  kind,  bow  worthy  of  thyself  that  speeeb^ 
My  dearest  friend ! 

POLTMESTOB. 

What  farther  would  yon  know  ^ 

HECUBA. 

If  haply  yet  the  youth  remember  aught 
Of  me  his  Mother  ? 

POLYMESTOB. 

Much  he  wishM  to  come 
And  visit  you  in  private. 

HECUBA. 

Is  the  gold 
He  brought  from  Troy  preserved  ? 

POI.YMB9TOB. 

{  keep  it  safe 
In  my  own  palace. 

HECUBA. 

Keep  it  if  thou  wih  : 
But  covet  not  the  treasures  of  thy  friends. 

POLYMEiJTOR. 

I  do  not  covet  them ;  my  utmost  wish 
Is  to  enjoy,  O  Woman,  what  I  have. 

HECUBA. 

Know'st  thou  then,  what  to  thee  and  to  thy  sons 
I  want  to  say  ? 

POLYMESTOB. 

I  know  not ;  till  in  words 
Your  thoughts  are  signified. 

HECUBA. 

Bestow  such  love 
On  Polydore  as  thou  receiv'st  from  me. 

POLYMESTOR. 

What  is  It  that  to  m^  and  to  my  children 
You  would  disclose  i 


f  ■  ■  ' 

HECUBA.  45 

HECUBA. 

The  spot,  where  deep  in  earth. 
The  antient  treasures  of  all  Priam^s  hofase 
Lie  buried. 

POLYMESTOR. 

Is  this  secret  what  you  wish 
Should  to  your  Son  be  mentioned  i 

H£CUBA. 

Yes,  by  thee. 
Because  thou  art  a  virtuous  man ! 

POLYMESTOR. 

But  wherefore 
Did  you  require  these  children  should  be  present? 

HECUBA. 

For  them  to  know  the  secret,  if  thou  die^ 
Will  be  of  great  advantage. 

POLYMESTOR4 

You  have  spoken 
Well  and  discreetly. 

HECUBA. 

Know'st  thoQ  where  at  Tro/ 

Miperva's  temple  stands  ? 

POLYMESTOR. 

Is  the  gold  there  ? 
But  by  what  mark  shall  I  the  spot  distinguish  f 

HECUBA. 

Above  the  surface  rises  a  black  stone. 

POLYMESTOR. 

Will  you  describe  the  place  yet  more  minutely? 

HECUBA. 

The  gold  I  in  thy  custody  would  place. 
Which  I  from  Ilion  hither  bring. 

POLYMESTOR.^ 

Where  is  k  ? 
Conceal!d  beneath  your  garment  ? 


46  HECUBA. 

HECUBA. 

Midst  a  heap 
Of  spoils  laid  up  within  yoa  tents. 

POLYMESTOR. 

Where  mean  you? 
These  are  the  Grecian  mariners'  abode. 

H30U9A. 

In  separate  dwellings  have  they  placed  the  captives  ? 

POLYMESTOR. 

But  how  can  we  rely  upon  the  faith 
Of  those  within  ?  doth  no  man  thither  come? 

HECUBA. 

There's  not  a  Greek  within ;  we  are  alone : 
But  enter  thou  these  doors :  for  now  the  host^ 
Impatient  to  weigh  anchor^  would  return 
From  Ilion  to  their  homes.    Thou  with  thy  children 
T^accompUsh  all  the  dread  behests  of  fate, 
Shalt  thither  go  v^hexfi  thou  hast  lodg'd  my  Son. 

{Exeunt hecvb A  and  FOj.yuESjo't^f 

CHORUS. 

Thou  hast  not  yet  received  the  blow^ 
Sat  justice  sure  will  lay  thee  low. 
like  him  who  headlong  from  on  high 
Falls  where  no  friendly  haven's  nigh. 
Into  the  ocean's  stormy  wave, 
HcFe  shalt  thou  find  a  certain  grave: 
For  twofold  ruin  doth  impend 
O'er  him  who  human  laws  pursue. 
And  righteous  Gods  indignant  view : 
Thee  shall  the  hope  of  gain  mislead. 
Which  prompts  thee  to  advance  with  speed. 
And  Pluto's  loath'd  abode  descend  : 
Soon  shalt  thou  press  th'  ensanguin'd  strand^ 
Slain  by  a  woman's  feeble  hand. 

POLYMESTOR.     (within*) 
Ah  me,  the  light  that  visited  these  eyes 
Is  darken'd. 


HECUBA.  47 

SEMICnORUS. 

Heard  ye,  O  my  friends,  the  shriek 
Of  yonder  Thracian  i 

POLYMESTOR.      (witkln,) 

Yet  again,  alas^ 
My  children'3  foul  and  execrable  murder! 

SEMICH0RU8. 

My  friends,  some  recent  mischief  hath  within 
Been  perpetrated. 

POLYMESTOR.      (witlun.) 

Tho'  your  feet  are  swift, 
Ye  shall  not  scape,  fop  through  the  walls  Fll  burst 
My  passage. 

SEMICHORUS. 

With  a  forceful  hand,  behold 
He  brandishes  the  javelin.     Shall  we  rush 
To  seize  him  ?    This  important  crisis  bids  us 
Assist  our  Queen  and  Phrygians  valiant  dames. 

HECUBA. 

Now  do  thy  worst,  and  from  their  hinges  rend 
Yon  massive  gates :  no  more  canst  thou  impart 
To  those  lost  eyes  their  visual  orbs,  nor  see 
Thy  sons,  whom  I  have  slain,  to  life  restor'd. 

HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

Hast  thou,  my  honor'd  mistress,  caught  the  Thracian, 
Over  this  treacherous  friend  hast  thou  prevail'd. 
And  all  thy  threats  accomplish'd  ? 

HECUBA. 

Ye  shall  see  him 
•  Before  the  tent,  without  delay,  depriv'd 
Of  sight,  advancing  with  unsteady  foot. 
And  the  two  breathless  corses  of  his  sons. 
Whom  I,   assisted  by  the  noblest  matrons 
Of  Troy,  have  slain.    Th'  atonement  he  hath  paid 


4S  HECUBA. 

To  my  revenge,  is  just.     But  iiaW  behold 
He  issues  forth :  I  will  retire  and  shun 
The  Thracian  chiefs  unconquerable  rag^. 

POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

POLYMB8TOR. 

Ah,  whither  am  I  going  f  wretched  me  ! 
Where  am  I  ?  what  supports  me  i  With  these  bands 
Groping  my  way  like  some  four-footed  beast. 
How  shall  I  turn  me,  to  the  right  or  left. 
That  I  those  murderous  Phrygian  dames  may  seize 
Who  have  destroy'd  mei  Impious  and  accurst 
Daughters  of  Ilion,  in  what  dark  recess 
Do  they  escape  me  ?  Would  to  Heaven,  O  Sun, 
Hiou  to  these  bleeding  eye-balls  could'st  aiFord 
A  cure,  that  thou  my.blindness  could'st  remove. 
But  hush,  I  hear  those  women's  cautious  tread* 
How  shall  I  leap  upon  them  I  with  their  flesh 
How  shall  I  glut  my  rage,  and  for  a  feast 
To  hungry  tigers  cast  their  mangled  bones. 
In  just  requital  of  the  horrid  wrongs. 
Which  I  from  them,  ah  wretched  me,  have  suffered  ? 
But  whither,  by  what  impulse  am  I  borne, 
Leaving  the  corses  of  my  Sons  expos'd 
To  hellish  Bacchanalians,  as  they  lie 
Tom  by  the  dogs,  and  on  the  mountain's  ridge 
Cast  forth  unburied  !     Where  shall  I  stand  still  I 
Or  whither  shall  I  go  ?     Like  some  proud  bark 
Tow'd  into  harbour,  which  contracts  its  sails ; 
I  to  that  fatal  chamber  which  contains 
The  corses  of  my  murdetM  sons  rush  onward 
With  speed  involuntary. 

CHORUS. 

Hapless  man. 
How  art  thou  visited  by  woes  too  grievous 
To  be  endur'd !  but  by  dread  Jove  thy  focj 


HECUBA^  49 

On  him  whose  deedg  are  base^  it  is  ordain'd^ 
That  the  severest  punishments  await. 

POLYMBSTOR. 

Rouse^  O  ye  Thracians^  arm'd  with  ponderous  spears, 
Array'd  in  mail,  for  generous  steeds  renowned, 
A  hardy  race,  whom  Mars  himself  inspires. 
To  you,  O  Grecian  troops,  and  both  the  sons 
Of  Atreus,  I  with  clamorous  voice  appeal : 
Come  hither,  I  implore  you  by  the  Gods* 
Do  any  o^  you  hear  me  ?   is  there  none 
Who  will  assist  ?  why  loiter  ye  ?  Those  women. 
Those  captives  have  destroyed  me.    Horrid  wrongs 
Have  I  endur'd :  ah  me,  the  foul  reproach  ! 
But  whither  shall  I  turn,  or  whither  go  i 
Through  the  aerial  regions  shall  I  wing 
My  swift  career  to  that  sublime  abode 
Where  Sirius  or  Orioh  from  his  eyes 
Darts  radiant  flames  i  or,  to  perdition  doomed. 
Shall  I  descend  to  Pluto's  sable  flood  i     v 

.  CHORUS. 

He  merits  pardon,  whosoe'er  assail'd 
By  ills  too  grievous  to  be  borne,  shakes  o£f 
The  loath'd  incumbrance  of  a  wretched  life. 

AGAMEMNON,  POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA, 

CHORUS. 

.    AGAMEMNON. 

Hearing  thy  shrieks  I  came :  for  Echo,  child 
Of  craggy  mountains,  in  no  gentle  note 
Wafted  those  sounds  tumultuous  thro'  the  host. 
Had  yre  not  known  that  by  the  Grecian  spear 
The  towers  of  vanquish'd  l^hrygia  are  o'erthrown. 
Such  uproar  would  have  caus'd  no  small  alarm. 

POLYMB8TOR. 

My  dearest  friend,  soon  as  I  heard  your  voice, 
I  instantly  perceiv'd  'twas  Agamemnon, 
See  you  my  suffering^  ? 

VOL.  I.  B 


so  HECUBA. 

AGAMEMKOK. 

Wretched  Polymestor ! 
Who  hath  destroyed  tbee  ?  who  bereaved  of  sight 
Thy  bleeding  orbs,  and  those  thy  children  dew? 
Whoe'er  the  autbor  of  such  deeds^  his  rage 
Was  dreadful  sore  'gainst  thee  and  'gainst  thy  sons. 

POLTILESTOK. 

With  the  assistance  of  those  captive  dames. 
Me  Hecaba  hath  murder'd^  more  than  murdered. 

AGAMEMNON. 

What  mean'st  thou? — are  you  guilty  of  the  crime .. 
With  which  he  charges  you  i  and  have  you  dar^d 
To  perpetrate  an  action  thus  audacious  ? 

POLYMESTOB* 

Ah  me  !  vhat  said  you  ?  is  she  near  at  hand? 
Inform  me  where  to  find^  that  I  may  seize  heo 
And  scatter  wide  to  all  the  fowls  of  Heaven 
Her  mangled  corse. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Ha !  what  is  thy  design  f 

POLYMESTOR. 

Allow  me,  1  conjure  you  by  the  Gods, 
To  grasp  her  with  this  frantic  arm. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Desist, 
And  casting  forth  all  rancour  from  thy  heart. 
Now  plead  thy  cause ;  that,  hearing  both  apartj^ 
I  with  unbiass'd  justice  m^  decide. 
If  thou  these  sufierings  merit'st. 

pbliYMSSTOB. 

I  will  speak. 
There  was  one  Polydore,'the  youngest  son 
Of  those  Whom  Hecuba  to  Priam  bore ; 
Him  erst  removing  from  the  Phrygian  reahn. 
His  Sire  to  me  consign 'd,  that  in  my  palace 


HECUBA.  51 

He  might  be  nortnr'd,  when  that  hoary  King 

The  fall  of  Troj  suspected  :  him  I  slew  : 

But  hear  my  motives  for  the  deed,  to  prove 

How  jastly  and  how  prudently  I  acted. 

Your  enemy,  that  fjoy,  if  he  survived 

THe  ruin  of  his  country,  might,  I  fcar'd. 

Collect  the  scattered  citizens  of  Troy, 

And  there  again  reside.     I  also  fear'd, 

That  when  the  Greeks  knew  one  of  Priam's  line 

Was  livings  with  a  second  fleet  invading 

The  shores  of  Phrygia,  they  again  might  drain 

Of  their  inhabitants  our  Thracian  fields, 

Involving  us,  their  neighbours,  in  the  vengeance, 

They  on  their  foes  at  Ilion  wreak*    To  us 

Already  hath  such  neighbourhood,  O  King, 

Prov'd  baneful.    But,  apprised  of  her  son's  fate, 

Hecuba  drew  me  hither,  on  pretence 

She  would  inform  mc  where  in  mnniiive  gold 

The  hidden  treasures  of  old  Priam's  race 

Beneath  Troy's  ruins  were  securM.    Alonr, 

She  with  my  children  brought  me  to  this  tent. 

That  none  beside  might  know.    With  bended  km^e, 

While  on  a  couch  I  sat,  some  on  my  left, 

And  others  on  my  right,  as  with  a  friend, 

Full  many  of  the  Trojan  darqsels  took 

Their  places,  holding  up  against  the  sun 

My  robe,  the  woof  of  an  (fi)  Edonian  loom : 

Some  feign'd  t'  admire  it,  others  viewM  my  spear. 

And  stripped  me  of  them  both.    From  hand  to  baud 

The  matrons,  seeming  to  caress  my  children, 

Removed  them  far  from  their  unhappy  Sire : 

(8)  E4oilk  wsi  •  maritiiiut  dii trict  of  Ttince,  bordfrHng  on  the  JE^fMi 
scs,  and  diffclsd  from  Mscedoda  on  tbs  Sooth  west  by  tlie  river  Htry^ 

Thb  provines  U,  bf  spost  writers,  supposed  to  bv/t  derived  its  nsine 
from  the  mounUdn  Edon,  frequeuU/  inetitipned  by  tlie  Poetx,  on  iiccouttt 
of  its  befaif  batmted  by  the  fSnmde  votsriei  of  Baccfatis,  ivfoom  we  ^40  ftod 
oAsa  csOod  fidofikns. 

0      O 


5«  HECUBA- 

And  after  tbeir  fond  speeches,  in  an  instant, 

(Could  you  believe  it?)  snatching  up  the  swords. 

Which  they  beneath  their  garments  had  conceal'd. 

They  stabb'd  my  sons,  whom  while  I  strove  to  aid, 

In  hostile  guise  their  comrades  held  my  arms 

And  feet ;  if  I  looked  up,  they  by  the  hair 

Confin'd  me;  if  I  mov'd  my  hands,  my  struggles 

Proved  ineiFectual,  thro'  the  numerous  band 

Of  women  who  assail'd  me,  and  to  cloiie 

The  scene  of  my  calamity,  accomplish'd 

A  deed  with  more  than  common  horror  fraught. 

For  they  tore  out  my  bleeding,  eyes,  and  fled. 

But,  like  a  tiger  starting  up,  I  chas'd 

These  ruthless  fiends,  and  with  an  hunter's  speed 

Each  wall  examined,  dashing  to  the  ground. 

And  breaking  what  I  seiz'd.    Thefse  cruel  wronger 

While  I  your  inter;?sts  study  to  maintain, 

O  Agamemnon,  and  dispatch  your  foe. 

Have  I  endur'd.    To  spare  along  harangue. 

The  whole  of  what 'gainst  woman  hath  been  said 

By  those  of  antient  times,  is  saying  now>. 

Or  shall  be  said  hereafter,  in  few  words 

Will  I  comprise;  nor  ocean's  waves,  nor  eartb> 

Nurture  so  vile  a  race,  as  he  who  nK)st 

Hath  with  the  sex  conversed,  but  knows  too  welL 

CUOKUS. 

Curb  that  audacious  virulence  of  speech. 
Nor,  by  thy  woes  embitter'd,  thus  revile 
Air  womankind ;  the  number  of  our  sex 
Is  great,  and  some  there  are,  whom  as  a  mark 
To  envy,  their  distinguished  worth  holds  forth,. 
Tho'  some  are  justly  numbered  with  the  wicked^. 

HECY7BA* 

O  Agamemnon,  never  ought  the  tongue 
To  have  a  greater  influence  o'er  mankind 
Than  actions ;  but  whoever  hath  done  wellt 


HECUBA.  S3 

Ought  to  speak  ^ell;  and  he^  whose  deeds  are  base. 

To  ttse  nnseemly  language,  nor  find  means 

By  specious  words  to  colour  -o'er  injustice. 

Full  wise  indeed  are  they  to  whom  such  art 

Is  most  familiar:  but  to  stand  the  test 

Of  time  not  wise  enough ;  for  they  all  perish^ 

Not  one  of  them  e'er  scapes.    These  previous  thoughts 

Toyou^  O  mighty  King,  have  I  address'd. 

But  now  to  him  I  turn,  and  will  refute 

The  fallacies  he  uttered.     What  pretence 

Hast  tbou  for  saying,  that  to  free  the  Greeks 

From  such  a  jsecond  war,  and  for  the  sake 

Of  Agamemnon,  thou  didst  slay  my  son? 

For  first,  O  villain,  the  Barbarian  race 

With  Greece,  nor  will,  nor  ever  can  be  friends. 

What  interest  rous'd  thy  zeal  ?  didst  thou  expect 

To  form  a  njuptial  union  !  wert  thou  mov'd 

By  kindred  ties,  or  any  secret  cause? 

Greece  with  a  fleet  forsooth  would  have  returned 

To  lay  thy  country  waste.     Who,  canst  thou  think. 

Will  credit  such  assertions?  If  the  truth 

Thou  wilt  confess,  gold  and  thy  thirst  of  gain 

Were  my  Son's  murderers.  Why,whenTroy  yet  flourish^ dj 

Why,  when  the  city  was  on  every  side 

Fenced  by  strong  bulwarks,  why,  when  Priam  liv'd. 

And  Hector  wielded  a  victorious  spear. 

Didst  thou  not,  if  thou  hadst  design'd  to  act 

In  Agamemnon's  favor,  at  the  time 

When  thou  didst  nurture  my  unhappy  Son, 

And  in  thy  palace  shelter,  either  slay. 

Or  to  the  Greeks  surrender  up  the  youTh 

A  living  prisoner  f  But  when  llion's  light 

Was  utterly  extinguish'd,  when  the  smoke 

Declar  d  the  city  subject  to  our  foes, 

The  stranger  thou  didst  murderi  at  thy  hearth 

Who  sought  protection.     To  confirm  thy  guilt, 

I^ow  Iiear  this  f&^ther  charge :  if  thou  to  Greece 


M  HECU3A. 

Hadst  been  a  friend  indeed^  thou  should'st  haive  fpMKL 

The  gold  thou  say'st  thou  keep'st^  not  for  tbine  ovn^ 

But  Agamemnon's  sake,  among  the  troops 

Who  suffer  want,  and  from  their  native  land 

Have  for  a  tedious  season  been  detained. 

But  thou  from  those  rapacious  hands  e'en  now 

Canst  not  endure  to  part  Vfith  it,  but  hoard'st  it 

Still  buried  in  thy  coffers  :  as  became  thee, 

Hadst  thou  train'd  up  my  Son,  hadst  thou  to  him 

Been  a  protector,  great  is  the  renown 

Thou  would'st  have  gain'd;  for  in  distress  the  good 

Are  stedfast ;  but  our  prosperous  fortunes  swarm 

With  friends  unbidden.     Hadst  ,thou  been  in  want. 

And  Polydore  abounded,  a  sure  treasure 

To  thee  would  he  have  prov'd :  but  now  no  longer 

Jn  him  hast  thou  a  friend  ;  thou  of  thy  gold 

Hast  lost  tb'  enjoyment,  thou  thy  Sons  hast  lost^ 

And  art  thyself  thus  wretched.     But  to  yOu, 

O  Agamemnon,  now  again  I  speak : 

If  you  assist  him,  you  will  seem  corrupt ; 

For  you  will  benefit  a  man  devoid 

Of  honor,  justice,  piety,  or  truth  ; 

It  might  be  said  that  you  delight  in  evil ; 

But,  I  presume  not  to  reproach  my  lords. 

CHORUS. 

How  doth  a  virtuous  cause  inspire  the  tongue 
With  virtuous  language ! 

AGAMEMNON. 

On  a  stranger's  woes 
Reluctant  I  pronounce,  but  am  constrain'd ; 
For  shame  attends  the  man  who  takes  in  hand 
Some  great  affair,  and  leaves  it  undecided. 
Know  then,  to  me  thou  seem'st  not  to  have  slain 
Thy  guest  thro'  an  atachment  to  my  cause. 
Nor  yet  to  that  of  Greece,  but  that  his  gold 
Thou  might'st  retain  j  tho'  in  this  wretched  state 


Thou  speak  to  serve,  lliyintefesitf*    Among  you 
Perlj^pa  tbtf  qivrd^i*  of  your  guests-  seisms  ligbt> 
We  Greeks  esteem  it  b^sf?.    If  I  acquit  thee 
How  shall  I  sciipe  reproach  i  locked  I  capnot: 
Since  thou  hast  dar'd  to  perpetrate  the  crime, 
£nd9i]s(»  |I|e  c<9Dseqence. 

•      •         POLTMBSTOB; 

Too  plain  it  seems 
Ah  me!  thit^  Tanquish'd  by  a  female  slave^ 
Here  shall  I  perish  by  ignoble  hands. 

HECUBA. 

Is  not  this  just  for  the  atrocious  deed 
Which  thou  hast  wrought  ? 

FOETMEStOK. 

My  childr&>  wretched  me ! 
And  these  quench'd  orbsi 

HECUBA. 

Griev'st  thou,  yet  think'st  thou  not 
That  I  lamtot  rty  Son  f 

rOLYMESTOR. 

Malignant  woman. 
Do  ybu  rejoice  in  taunting  my  distress  f 

HECUBA. 

In  such  revenge  have  not  I  cause  for  joy  ? 

POLYMESTOR. 

Yet  not  SO  hastily,  when  ocean's  wave— 

HECUBA. 

Shall  in  a  bslrk  convey  me  to  the  shores 
Of  Greece  ? 

POLYMESTOK. 

Shall  whelm  you  in  its  vast  abyss 
Fall^  from  the  shrouds. 

HECUBA. 

Rais'd  thither  by  what  impulse  ? 


56  HECUBA. 

POLYME8TOR* 

Up  the  tall  mast  you  with  swift  foot  shall  climb. 

HECUBA. 

On  feather'd  pinions  borne,  or  how  i 

POLYMESTOR. 

With  form 
Canine  endued,  and  eyeballs  glaring  fire. 

HECUBA. 

Whence  didst  thou  learn  that  I  such  wondrous  chaoge 
Shall  undergo  f 

POLYMESTOR. 

Bacchus,  the  Thracian  Seer, 
Gave  this  response. 

HECUBA. 

To  thee  did  he  unfold 
Nought  of  the  grievous  sufferings  thou  endur'st  i 

POLYMESTOR. 

Then  could  you  ne'er  have  caught  me  by  your  wiles. 

HECUBA. 

But  on  this  change  of  being,  after  death. 
Or  while  I  yet  am  living,  shall  I  enter  i 

POLYMESTOR. 

After  your  death,  and  men  shall  call  your  tomb"-*. 

*  HECUBA. 

By  my  new  foqn,  or  what  is  it  thou  mean'st  ? 

POLYMESTOR. 

(9)  The  sepulchre  of  that  vile  brute,  an  object 
Conspicuous  to  the  mariner. 

(9)  Ki/iosarifM,  the  term  here  made  use  o^  is  the  same  we  meet  with  in 
Strabo,  who  calls  the  tomb  of  Hecuba  by  that  name,  and  describes  it  as 
situated  on  that  part  of  the  coast  of  the  Thracian  Chersonesos  whidi  is 
opposite  the  month  of  the  river  Rhodins.  Dr.  Chandler,  in  his  Travels 
through  Asia,  mentions  seeing  <<  Cynossema^^or  the  barrow  of  Hecuba, 
which,  he  adds,  ^  is  still  very  conspicuous.'*  He  confirms  Strabo's  ac- 
count of  its  site.  The  dwelling  so  long  on  this  transformation  of  Troy's 
unhiq>py  Queen  will,  no  doubt,  q>pear  to  some  readers  inconsistent  with 
the  dignity  of  the  Tragic  Muse,  especially  if  they  happen  to  recollect  th($ 


HECUBA.  5T 

HBCUBA. 

I  care  not ; 
If  J  yengeance  is  complete.    . 

P0LYME8TOR. 

Cassandra  too, 
Yonr  Daughter,  must  inevitably  bleed. 

HECUBA. 

Abomination !  on  thy  guilty  head 
These  curses  I  retort* 

POLYMSSTOB. 

Her  shall  the  Wife 
Of  Agamemnon  slay^  who  sternly  guards 
His  royal  mansion. 

UBCUBA. 

Such  a  frantic  deed 
As  this  may  Tyndarus*  Daughter  ne'er  commit ! 

POLYMESTOB. 

She  next  uplifting  the  remorseless  axe 
Shall  smite  her  Lord. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Ha !  madman^  dost  thou  court 
Thy  ruin  ? 

POLYMESTOK. 

Slay  me ;  for  the  murderous  bath 
Awaits  you,  when  to  Argos  you  return. 

ludicrous  manner  in  which  it  is  set  forth  by  Plautas  in  his  Maenechmi.  I 
duUl  therefore  only  refer  those,  iwho  wish  for  a  more  circumstantial  ac- 
count of  Hecuba's  Metamorphosis,  to  Orid,  where  they  will  find  her, 
^  Stthonios  ululare  per  agros."  He  differs,  indeed,  in  some  respects  from 
Euripides,  particularly  in  the  representing  her  as  yet  alive  when  this 
change  of  form  took  place ;  bat  in  Quintus  Calaber  her  metamorphose 
inlo  the  canine  species  precedes  the  departure  of  the  Greeks  from  Troy, 
and  is  accompanied  with  an  immediate  petrifaction  of  her  whole  frame ; 
9tKlf  •J'W  J^va  wa»J«  ^nm  Qtog,  1. 14.  V,  399 ;  the  Poet,  however,  represents 
her,  even  in  that  state,  as  borne  away  by  the  victore  with  the  rest  of  their 
plunder.  The  inspired  Cassandra,  in  the  Trojan  Captives  of  Euripides, 
just  foretells  the  death  of  Hecuba,  but,  with  a  singuhir  degree  of  elegance 
and  delicacy,  adds^  «i!KKk  v h  muiw ;  I  spare  the  shameful  sequeU 


68  .HECUBA. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Will  ye  not  drag  him  from  my  sight  by  force  ? 

POLYMBSTOR. 

Hear  you  with  grief  what  I  announce  ? 

AGAMEMNON. 

My.  followers^ 
Why  stop  ye  not  the  miscreant's  boding  mouth  ? 

POLYMESTOR. 

This  mouth  be  clos'd  for  ever :  I  have  spoken. 

AGAMEMNON. 

Will  ye  not  cast  him  with  the  utmost  speed 
Upon  some  desert  island^  since  he  dares 
To  speak  with  such  licentiousness  ?— Depart,  .* ' 

O  wretched  Hecuba,  and  both  those  corses 
Deposit  in  the  grave.    But,  as  for  you. 
Ye  to  your  lord's  pavilions  must  i*epair, 
O  Phrygian  dames  :  for  I  perceive  the  gales 
Rising  to  waft  us  hoiaeward  :  may  success 
Attend  the  voyage  to  our  native  land  ! 
And  in  our  mansions  may  we  find  all  "well. 
Freed  from  these  dangers ! 

CHORUS. 

To  the  haven  go. 
And  to  the  tents,  my  friends,  t'  endure  the  toils 
Our  lords  impose :  for  thus  harsh  fate  enjoins. 


ORESTES. 


Mt}I^1oyoy  filiVficct  firoiyfltl*;^  val^o^.  ifitCHTLCS* 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA. 


ELECTRA. 

HELEN. 

CHORUS  OF  ARGIVE  DAMSELS,  attendaiits  on  EMcnuu 

ORESTES. 

SfENELAUS. 

TYNDARUS. 

FYLADES. 

A  MESSENGER. 

HERMIONE. 

A  PHRYGUN. 

APOLLO. 


BCFMJE^AS  OPEN  COURT  BEFORE  THE  PALACE  AT 

AROOS. 


ORESTES. 


ELECTRA. 

T%e  Palace  Doors  thrown  open,  discover  obsst]R8  $kq>itig 

on  a  Couch* 

1  hbbb's  not  an  evil  in  the  power  of  words 
T  express^  no  dire  calamity^  no  scourge 
Inflicted  by  the  Gods^  whose  weight  the  race 
Of  man  endures  not.     For  e'en  he  who  sprung, 
Tis  said^  from  Jove^  e'en  Tantalus  the  blest, 
(Nor  do  I  speak  in  too  presumptuous  terms 
Of  his  past  fortunes,   when  I  style  them  blest) 
Scar'd  by  the  rock  impending  o'er  his  head. 
Floats  in  the  midway  air,   and  suffers  thus. 
As  fame  relates,  because,  when  with  the  Gods 
Admitted,  tho'  a  mortal,   to  partake 
The  social  board,  by  an  unbridled  tongue 
He  did  offend  most  foully :  he  begot 
Pelops,  the  Sire  of  Atreus,  whom  the  Fates, 
As  in  their  loom  they  wove  his  vital  thread, 
Ordain'd  with  discord  and  fraternal  hate 
To  vex  Thyestes.    Why  should  I  recount 
Such  execrable  deeds  ?    Wheniie  had  slain 
Thyestes'  children,  Atreus  at  tiie  banquet 
Plac'd  them  before  their  Father.    But  to  Atreus 
And  Cretan  i&rope,  for"  I  suppress 
The  intermediate  fortunes  of  our  house, 
Was  Agamemnon  the  illustrious  boro, 
(If  tp  the  chief  who  so  ignobly  died, 
Hie  title  of  illustrious  can  belong) 


62  ORESTES. 

And  Menelaus;   Helen,   by  the  Gods, 

Abhorr'd,  was  Menelaus'  Wife,   his  brother 

The  royal  Agamemnon  to  his  bed 

Took  Ciytemnestra  a  distinguished  dame: 

Three  daughters  from  that  impious  Mother  sprung^ 

Chrysomethis,  the  victim  Ipliigenia  (1), 

And  I  Electra,   with  one  son  Orestes. 

My  Mother,  casting  o'er  hid  head  the  folds 

Of  an  inextricable  garment,   slew 

Her  Lord :  but  why  she  slew  him,  to  relate 

Would  ill  become  a  virgin  ;   I  this  deed 

Of  darkness  leave  for  public  speculation. 

But  why  should  we  charge  Phcebus  with  injustice, 

Tho'  he  enjoin'd  Orestes  to  destroy 

His  Mother  ?     Not  by  all  was  he  for  this  =   '  ' 

Applauded;  yet  he  slew  her  iti  obedience 

I'o  the  prophetic  Deity.     I  too. 

As  far  as  woman  could,  that  abtion  shared. 

And  with  us  valiant  Pylades  (^tispir'd. 

Wretched  Orestes  wasting  thro'  disease 

Heuce  lingers  on  a  couch,    his  Mother's  blood 

With  madness  fires  his  brain  :  I  dread  to  name 

Those  Goddesses,  th' Eumenides,  who  strike 

His  inmost  soul  with  terror.     But  this  day 

Is  now  the  sixth  since  his  slain  Mother's  corse 

Was  purified  by  fire,  and  in  that  space 

No  food  hath  he  receive,  nor  once  hath  lat^ 

His  wearied  frame ;  but  in  his  mantle  wrapt,     -> 

Soon  as  the  frenzy  leaves  him,   wheli  returns 

His  better  reason,  weeps :  bat  from  the  couch 

(1)  In  both  the  Greek  and  Lati%  the  quantity  of  Iphigema's  naime  9 
the  same  with  that  of  her  Great  Grandmother  Hif^podantitt,  the  wife  o^ 
Pelops,  the  last  syllable  but  one  beh^  long :  but  it  i»sow  almofit  unlfeifi^. 
sally  pronounced  otherwise  in  Eagliflh,  paHiculfllrly  since  two  of  our  fiiK 
poets^  Dryden  andJPope,  have  by  their  example  authpr^^ed  the  coii» 
traction  into  Iphigema.  The  arbitrium  et  jus  et  noroialoqiieAdi  arie  hf 
Horace  assigned  to  custom;  and  the  translator  thoAgM ft  beott^faknloi 
acquiesce,  rather  than  seeAi  to  ^ute  alidl'litotfattilQr^b^MSiictiSgftft 
observe  its  directions. 


ORESTES.  63 

Starts  ever  and  anon,  swift  as  the  steed 
Bursting  his  yoke.     But  Argos  hath  decreed  ; 
Beneath  his  roof  or  at  the  sacred  hearth. 
That  no  man  shall  receive  us,  no  man  speak 
To  us  our  Mother^s  murderers.    But  this  day 
The  city  hath  appointed  for  deciding 
By  puhlic  vote^  whether  with  showers  of  stones 
They  will  o'erwhelm  us,  or  with  sharpened  sword 
Lop  off  our  heads.     One  hope  of  scaping  death 
We  yet  have  left;   for  Menelaos  comes 
From  Troy,  and  crowding  with  his  fleet  the  port 
Of  Nauplia^  anchors  on  these  shores,  full  long 
A  wanderer  in  his  voyage.    To  our  palace 
Hath  he  sent  forward  Helen,  guilty  cause 
Of  many  woes^  observing  when  the  night 
Concealed  her  with  its  shade,  lest  one  of  those 
Whose  sons  at  Ilion  fell^  had  he  by  day 
Mark'd  her  arrival,  might  have  hurl'd  the  stone 
To  smite  her:  here  within  she  sits,  lamenting: 
Her  Sister,  and  the  fortunes  of  this  house. 
But,  to  alleviate  her  distress,  she  finds 
Hermione  her  Daughter,  from  the  realm/ 
Of  Sparta  bearing  when  he  saii'd  for  Troy, 
Beneath  these  roofs,  whom  Menelaus  left 
Entrusted  to  my  Mother's  guardian  care, 
In  her  rejoicing  she  forgets  her  woes. 
But  I  observe  each  avenue,  to  see 
If  Menelaus  come,  for  every  help 
We  have  beside  is  feeble ;  if  in  him 
We  find  not  a  protector,  fall  we  must. 
No  prop  supports  the, house  of  wretchedness! 

HELEN,   ELECTRA  rORESTES  on  a  cauck.) 

HELEN. 
O  thou,   from  Spartan  Clytemnestra  sprung. 
And  Agan^emnon,  who  hast  long  remained 
A  virgin  ;   miserable  Electra,  say 


64  ORESTES. 

Both  how  thou  far'st,  and  how  thy  brother  fares. 

That  wretch  Orestes  who  his  Mother  slew  ? 

To  thee,  without  pollution^  by  transferring 

That  crime  from  you  to  Phoebus,  can  I  speak. 

Yet  I  bewail  the  fate  of  Clytemnestra  , 

My  Sister,  whom,  since  I  to  Ilion  sail'd 

(For  sail  I  did,  by  Heaven's  decrees  inspired 

With  frenzy),  never  have  these  eyes  beheld. 

But  reft  of  her  that  sad  event  I  mourn. 

ELECTRA. 

What  need  of  Words,  when  you  a  present  witness, 

0  Helen,  Agamemnon's  race  behold, 
Plung'd  in  calamity  ?  Sleep's  balmy  joys 

1  taste  not,  seated  by  my  Brother's  corse. 

He  hardly  breathes,  nor  when  I  term  him  dead. 
Do  I  his  woes  exaggerate.     You  meantime, 
Tho'  blest  yourself,  and  tho' jrour  Lord  is  blest. 
Come  to  th'  abode  of  us  who  are  most  wretched. 

HELEN. 
How  long  hath  he  lain  prostrate  on  his  couch  ? 

ELEGTRA. 

E'er  since  he  in  maternal  gore  imbrued 
His  hands. 

HELEN. 
O  hapless  youth,  O  wretched  fate 
Of  her  whom  her  own  furious  offspring  slew  ! 

ELECTRA. 

Surrounded  by  afflictions  I  despair^ 

HELEN. 

O  virgin,  I  conjure  thee  by  the  Gods, 
Wilt  thou  comply  with  the  request  1  make  ? 

ELECTRA. 

In  strict  attendance  on  my  hapless  brother 
Am  I  engag'd,  and  have  no  leisure. 

HELEN. 

Wilt  thou 

Go  to  my  Sistei^s  tomb  ? 


ORESTBS.  65 

You  mean  my  Mother's* 
On  what  account  ? 

Tb  bear  my  votive  tresses^ 
And  sprinkle  due  libations  to  her  shade. 

ELECTTRA. 

Are  not  you  sufl^r'd  to  attend  in  person 
The  sepulchre  of  one  you  hold  so  dear? 

HELEN. 

Before  the  Argive  citizens  I  blush 
To  shew  my  face. 

ELECTRA. 
At  lien^th  are  you^  who  erst 
Basely  your  home  abandoned,  grown  discreet. 

HELEN. 

Though  thou  hast  safctOtft^truth,  yet  dost  thou  speak 
Unlike  a  friend  to  me; 

ELECTRA. 

What  can  excite 
Your  shame  amidst  Mycene's  kindred  race  i 

HELEN. 

I  dread  the  Sires  of  those  who  fell  at  Troy. 

ELECTRA. 

All  Argos  with  one  voice  proclaims  you  curst. 

HELEN. 
My  fears  removing,  O  do  thou  confer 
On  me  Abis  favour. 

ELECTRA. 

I  my  Mother's  grave 
Cannot  endure  to  see. 

HELEN. 

Twere  sure  unseemly 
ThiaK  offerings  by  a  servant  to  convey. 

''  ELECTRA. 

Why  on  such  errand  scruple  you  to  send 
Hermione  your  Daughter? 

▼OL.  I.  w 


66  ORESTES. 

HELEN* 

It  becomes  not 
A  bashful  maid  in  public  to  advance. 

ELECTRA* 

She  by  this  action  would  repay  the  cares 
Of  the  deceas'd,  who  nurtured  her. 

HELEN. 

Well  spoken ; 
To  thee  I  yield,  O  Virgin,  and  will  send 
My  daughter,  for  thy  words  are  just.— Come  forth^ 
Hermione,  without  the  palace,  take 
These  offerings  in  thy  hand,   and  my  shorn  tresses: 
Soon  as  thou  reachest  Clytemnestra's  tomb 
Pour  mingled  streams  of  honey,  milk,  and  wine. 
On  her  sepulchral  hilloc  as  thou  stand'st, 
And  say;  "  On  thee  these  gifts  thy  sister  Helen 
'^  Bestows,  not  daring  to  approach  thy  grave, 
''  Because  she  fears  a  lawtess  Aigive  crowd." 
Implore  her  with  benign  ant  x»re  to  watch 
O'er  me,  thyself,  my  husband,  and  these  two 
By  the  prophetic  God  involved  in  ruin. 
Then,  as  the  ties  of  kindred  love  enjoin. 
From  me  each  offering  promise  that  is  due 
To  the  deceas'd.     My  daughter,  go  with  speed; 
And  when  these  holy  rites  thou  hast  perform'd. 
Without  delay  forget  not  to  return.         [Exit  hel^n 

ELECTRA. 

O  Nature,  to  some  mortals  what  a  source 
Of  mischief  art  thou  !  but  haw  great  a  blessing 
To  those  whom  thou  with  virtj5i  hast  endued  ! 
Mark  how  she  cuts  the  edges  of  her  hair, 
Studious  her  wonted  graces  to  retain, 
(2)  And  the  same  woman  still.    Thee  may  the  Gods 

(S)  The  artful  behaviour  of  Helen  i^  described  by  Gasa^  Archbisiiop  of 
Benevento,  in  the  following  vefses,  ,the  insertion  of  which  may  not  be 
unacceptable  to  the  classical  reader : 

Ut  capta  rcdiens  Helen^  cum  conjnge  Troj^ 
Lento  homine  atq;  animi  lenis  nimiiimq^  reinissi, 


{ 


ORESTES.  67 

» 

Pursue  with  hate  for  having  ruin'd  me. 

My  brother,  and  all  Greece.    Wretch  that  I  am! 

But  in  my  plaintive  notes  to  join,  again 

My  lov'd  companions  cpme:  perhaps  from  sleep 

Orestes  now  reposing  will  they  rouse. 

And  from  these  eyes  force  tears  when  I  behold 

My  brother  frantic.     Tread,  my  dearest  friends. 

With  silent  foot ;  let  no  rude  sound  be  heard  ;  ' 

For  grateful  is  your  kindness,  yet  to  wake  him 

Would  b^  unfortunate. 

CHORUS,  ELECTRA,  (ORESTES  on  his  couch.) 

ELECTRA. 

Hush,  hush,  my  friends ! 
Advance  on  tiptoe,  gently,  gently  step. 
Keep  at  a  distance  from  my  Brother's  couch. 

CHORUS. 

Thee  I  obey. 

EL£CTRA. 

In  whispers,  O  my  friend,  * 

Speak  like  the  flute  that's  form'd  of  slender  reed. 

CHORUS. 

Lo  in  a  tone,  soft  as  the  breathing  pipe, 

I  to  my  words  give  utterance. 

ELECTRA. 

It  is  well, 

E'en  thus :  yet  sink  your  voice.     Move  gently  on 

Incidit  in  caedem  ipsaja^fiinias  ferte  sororis, 

Quam  preceps  miseri  vii  lus  jogularat  Orestis, 

Succisam  de  more  comam  missura  sepulto 

Germanae  cineri,  fertur  dempstese  capillo 

Vixtiktideai  eftdmm<j  pauhun,  ne  ferte  placeret 

Tonsa  niniis  meiitueiis  Spartanis  improba  mopchis .       • .'    .    ' .  f 

A  copious  discussion  of  the  subject,  in  Otters  between  Casa  and  Peter 
Victorias,  who  understood  this  passage  in  a  different  sense,  construing 
Hop'  flwfoS',  "  close  to  the  roots'*  instead  of  "  at  the  extremities,"  and 
llakcu  fm,  "  still  retaimng  her  antient  beauty,"  occur  m  Miciiaelis 
Bruti  Epist.  Clar.  Vir,  p.  1— 19,  JUigd.  1561 ;  &  Casae  Lat.  Monumenta, 
Florent,i564;  p.  2,  86,&20i.        ,..        . 


I 

With  silent  step.    Say  for  what  came  ye  elites. 
For  here  he  lies  long  wrapt  in  quiet  sleep. 

CHORUS. 
Tell  ns,  lov*d  Maid,  how  fares  he  ? 

ELECTRA. 

In  wh^t  Wbird* 
Shall  I  express  his  woes  f    He  yet  just  breathes, 
And  groans  at  frequent  intervals. 

CHORUS. 

What  say'st  thbU  f 
O  wretch ! 

ELECTRA. 

You'll  kill  me,  if  you  make  him  ope 
Those  eye-lids  heavy  with  delicious  slumber. 

CHORUS. 
Unhappy  youth,  what  punishments  hath  Heaven 
On  thee  inflicted !  grievous  are  thy  toils. 

ELECTRA. 

Alas !  alas  !  unjust  was  the  response 
Unjust  Apollo  gave,  when  from  the  tripod 
Of  Themis  he  impelfd  us  to  commit 
That  execrable  murder  of  our  Mother. 

CHORUS. 

See'st  thou  i  his  limbs  beneath  the  garment  move. 

ELECTRA. 

Because  unseasonably,  with  clamorous  voice. 
Intruding,  his  repose  you  have  disturb'd. 

CSORUS. 

I  think  he  slumbers  stilL 

ELECTRA. 

Are  ye  not  gone^ 
From  his  apartment  will  ye  not  retire 
In  quiet,  lest  you  scare  him  f 

CHORUS. 

Yet  he  sleeps* 

ELECTRA. 

These  words  are  gratefuL 


ORESTEjSi.  e9 

CHORUS, 

Venerable  Night, 
O  thou  who  giVst  sweet  sleep  to  man  with  toils 
Exhausted,  borne  on  sable  pinions,  cqme 
From  Erebus  to  Agamemnon's  house. 
For,  by  calamity  and  grief  overwhelmed. 
We  sink  to  rise  no  more. 

Ye  are  too  loud, 

GHOI^US. 

No. 

ELBCTBA. 

leave  the  oQUch  ia  silenqe ;  O  refrain 
Your  tOAgUjes,  and.  grant  him  the  calm  joys  of  sleep. 

CSiORVS. 

Say  what  will  be  the  period  of  his  woes  f 

ELECTRA. 

Death.    For  what  else  but  death  can  now  ensue  f 
He  loathes  all  food. 

CHORUS. 

His  fate  is  then  tpo  plain, 

ELECTRA. 

Apollo  was  the  author  of  our  ruin, 
When  he  pronounc'd  that  blood  demanded  blood, 
That  she  who  slew  our  Father  should  be  slain. 

CHORUS. 

Tho'  justice  urg^d^  yet  from  her  Children's  hands 

Foul  was  the  blow. 

ELECTRA. 

My  Mother,  thou  didst  smite. 
Didst  perish ;  but  my  Father,  and  the  race 
Spning  from  thy  womb^  e'en  us,  haat  thou  involved 
Deep  in  perdition;  we  are  like  the  dead: 
For  while  thou  dweli'st  amid  the  shades  beneath, 
I,  more  than  half  my  life,  in  groans,  in  plaints. 
And  midnight  tears,  consume ;  unwedded>  childless^ 


70  ORESTES. 

Torn  with  aflflictions  which  can  never  end, 
I  thus  drag  out  the  remnant  of  my  days* 

CHORUS. 

Approach,  take  heed,  Electra,  lest  death  steal 
Upon  thy  Brother  ere  thou  art  aware. 
For  this  long  intermission  of  his  frenzy 
I  Hke  not. 

ORESTES,  (nxOemg,) 

Sleep,  thou  medicine,  who  reliev'st 
Every  disease,  how  sweetly  didst  thou  come 
To  visit  nie,  e'en  on  that  hour  when  most 
Thy  help  I  needed  ;  venerable  oblivion 
Of  misery,  how  art  thou  endued  with  T^isdom^, 
Benignant  Goddess,  whom  each  Wifetch  adores  ! 
But  whence,  or  by  what  means  did  I  come  hither  f 
For  I  have  lost  my  reason,  and  forget  •        '  ■  ^ 

All  that  has  pass'd. 

ELECTRA.  ' 

Dear  Brother,  with  Wh*at  joy       "■ 
Have  I  beheld  thee  sleep!— Shall  I  support 
Thy  feeble  body  ? 

ORESTES. 

Lend  your  pious  hand. 
Wipe  off  that  foam  which  loads  my  clammy  mouth, 
And  on  these  eye-lids  hangs. 

ELECTRA. 

Lo,   T  perform 
The  grateful  service,  and  am  nothing  loth 
To  tend  my  Brother  with  a  Sister's  care.^ 

ORESTES. 

Permit  me  on  that  arm  awhile  to  lean. 
And  from  my  face  remove  the  clotted  hair. 
For  it  obstructs  my  sight. 

ELECTRA. 

How  are  the  ringlets 
Of  this  thy  miserable  head  defird. 
From  being  long  unwash'd ! 


ORESTE&  U 

ORESTES. 

Upon  the  bed 
Lay  me  again  ;  soon  as  the  frenzy  leaves  me 
I  droop  unnerved,  and  feel  each  limb  grow  weak. 

£L£CTRA« 

See  how  the  couch  to  the  sick  man  is  welcome, 
A  thing  we  love  not,  but  which  oft  we  need. 

ORESTES. 

Stretch  forth  again  and  raise  me  from  the  couch. 

CHORUS. 

The  sick  thro^  listlessness  are  hard  to  please*' 

ELECTRA. 

Wilt  thou  not  set  thy  foot  upon  the  ground 
After  so  long  an  interval?  In  all  things 
Variety  affords  delight. 

ORESTES. 

Most  gladly : 
For  this  appears  like  health,  and  to  seem  well, 
EVn  tho*  we  are  not,  is  of  some  advantage. 

ELECTRA, 

Now,  O  my  Brother,  to  my  voice  attend, 
While  yet  thou  by  the  Furies  art  allow'd 
Thy  senses  to  retain. 

ORESTES. 

Is  there  aught  new 
You  would  disclose  to  me?  if  it  be  good. 
You  will  rejoice  me;  but  if  fraught  with  ill. 
Already  I've  enough  to  make  me  wretched. 

ELECTRA.     ' 

Thy  Uncle  Menelaus  is  arrived ; 
In  Nauplia's  haven  lies  his  anchored  fleet. 

ORESTES. 

What  say  you  ?  With  auspicious  beams  of  light. 
The  cloud  of  our  afflictions  to  dispell. 
Comes  he  our  kinsman,  he  who  by  the  ties 
Of  gratitude  wasto  our  Father  bound  ? 


7£  ORCSTB& 

He  comes^  indeed  *;  believe  me,  when  I  add^ 
Helen  accompanies  his  march  from  Troj:* 

CMRESTEB. 

Had  he  been  sav'd  alone>  he  had  been  happier; 
But,  if  he  bring  his  Consort^  he  con«8  laden 
Wilh  no  small  mischief. 

Tyndarus  bath  begoden 
A  race  of  Daughters,  by  their  shame  distinguished, 
And  infaipous  thro*  Greece. 

ORESTES. 

Now  be  it  yours, 
(For  surely  it  is  possible,)  io  act 
A  widely  different  part  from  those  vile  women ; 
Nor  let  your  virtue  be  to  words  alone 
Confin'di  but  deeply  rooted  in  the  heart. 

EUXTTRA. 

My  Brother^  how  those  eye-balls  roll !  sure  thou, 
Who  but  this  moment  wert  in  thy  right  mind. 
Art  suddenly  grown  frantic. 

ORESTES. 

O,  my  Mother, 
Forbear  to  rouse  against  me,  I  beseech, 
Those  blood-stain'd  Virgins  arm'd  with  hissing  snakes  ; 
See,  see  they  leap  upon  my  couch. 

ELECTRA. 

Poor  wretch, 
liie  still ;  these  visions  are  but  frmcy's  coinaget 

ORBSTES. 

Me,  mighty  Phoebus,  with  their  dog-ey -d  glare. 
Frowning  askance,  thosQ  Priestesses  of  Hell, 
E'en  those  terrific  Goddesses,  would  murder. 

ELECTRA. 

X    I  will  not  loose,  but  hold  thee  with  firm  hand^ 
Lest  hence  with  inauspicious  rage  thou  spring. 


OBJESTES.  73 

ORESTES. 

Let  me  alone ;  one  of  my  Furies  too 
Are  you  who  grasp  me  round  the  waist,  beneath 
The  yawning  depth  of  Tartarus  to  plunge  me. 

ELECTRA. 

Ah,  wretched  me !  what  aid  can  I  obtain 
When  Heaven  itself'^  against  us  ? 

ORESTES. 

Reach  my  bow, 
He  present  of  Apollo,  who  ordaia'd 
I  with  this  sounding  weapon  should  repell 
Those  direful  Goddesses  whene'er  they  came 
To  scare  me  into  madness. 

ELECTRA. 

Can  a  God 
By  human  arm  be  wounded  ? 

CmESTES. 

From  my  sight 
Unless  they  vanish.—    Heard  ye  the  loud  twang  ? 
Behold  ye  not  the  winged  arrows  sped 
With  force  unerring  from  a  distant  bow  ? 
But,  ah !  what  means  this  strange  delay  ?  Ascend 
Th'  etherial  fields,  on  rapid  pinions  borne, 
And  charge  Apollo's  oracles  with  guilt. 
Why  droop  my  spirits  ?  wherefore  do  my  lungs 
Retain  no  power  of  breathing  ?  from  the  couch 
Ah,  whither  have  I  wander'd  ?  But  again 
The  storm  I  see  subsides,  and  all  is  calm. 
My  Sister,  covering  with  a  veil  your  head. 
Why  do  you  weep  ?  It  shames  me  to  involve 
In  my  calamities  a  guiltless  maid. 
My  woes  bewail  no  longer  :  you  indeed 
Approved  the  project,  but  'twas  I  that  slew 
My  Mother,  tho'  the  guilt  I  charge  on  Phcebus, 
Who,  after  he  had  urg'd  me  to  commit 
An  action  the  most  impious,  with  vain  words. 
Not  in  effect,  consol'd  me.     For  my  Sire, 


74  ORESTES. 

I  deem,  if  him  I  to  his  face  had  question'd. 

Whether  by  filial  duty  1  was  bottnd 

To  slay  my  Mother,  would  with  many  prayers 

Have  earnestly  conjur'd  me  by  this  beard 

In  the  maternal  bosom  not  to  plunge 

My  sword,  since  he  to  life  could  ne'er  return, 

And  I  must  hence  be  thus  completely  wretched ! 

Yet,  O  my  Sister,  now  remove  that  veil. 

And  tho'  we  are  unhappy,  cease  to  weep. 

But  whensoever  you  see  my  reason  lost, 

Curb  and  console  my  frenzy ;  oft  as  you 

Lament  for  our  afflictions,  'tis  my  part 

To  give  you  soothing  counsel :  from  a  friend 

Benignant  offices  like  these  are  grateful. 

But  to  an  inner  chamber,  hapless  maid, 

Awhile  retiring,  close  those  sleepless  eyes> 

Refresh  yourself  with  wholesome  food,  and  bathe 

That  wearied  body  in  the  cooling  spring ; 

For  if  you  leave  me,  or  thro'  long  attendance 

On  me,  contract  diseases,  I  must  perish, 

For  I  have  you,  and  you  alone  to  aid  me,  ' 

Deserted,  you  perceive,  by  all  beside. 

ELECTRA. 

Not  thus :  with  thee  I  am  resolv'd  in  death 
As  well  as  life  to  share,  for  either  state 
Is  now  to  me  the  same.     If  thou  expire. 
Ah,  what  can  I,  a  feeble  woman,  do. 
How  find  support  alone  ?  of  Brother,  Sire, 
And  every  friend  bereft.     Yet,  if  thy  pleasure 
Be  such,  I  ought  t'obey  thee.     But  recline 
Upon  the  couch,  and  suffer  not  thy  fears 
To  make  thee  start  up  hastily,  but  rest 
In  the  same  posture:  for  although  thou  feel 
No  sickness,  if  thou  think  thyself  diseased. 
Like  real  maladies  can  fancy  wound     [Exit  electra. 


ORESTES.  75 

CHORUS. 

O    D    E. 

I. 

Upborne  on  rapid  wings,  O  Goddesses,  who  fire 
The  soul  with  madness,  who  in  tears  delight, 
Nor  imitate  gay  Bacchus*  festive  rite. 
Ye  fell  Eumenides,  ye  swarthy  choir. 
Who  midst  the  boundless  tracts  of  air,  to  smite 

The  crest  of  guilt,  direct  your  way, 
.    And  every  murderous  deed  requite  : 
From  Orestes*  tortur'd  breast. 
To  you,  to  you  I  pray, 
•  ' '      Banish  distractioi^'s  raging  pest. 

What  toils,  ordain'd  to  perish,  wretched  youth, 
O  son  of  Agamemnon,  didst  thou  brave. 
Obedient  to  the  voice  of  aweful  truth, 
Apollo's  dread  response  pour'd  from  earth's  central  cave. 

II. 

Where  is  thy  inercy,  J  ove  ?  for  ah,  what  tortures  rend 
The  murderer's  bosom!  adding  tears  to  tears. 
Some  evil  genius  wakes  these  conscious  fears. 
And  bids  his  mother's  blood  from  earth  ascend 
These  mansions  to  pollute  :  his  foul  disgrace. 

His  loss  of  reason  I  deplore. 

Prosperity  with  man's  frail  race 

Lasts  not  e'en  thro'  life's  short  day^ 
We  sink  to  rise  no  more. 

As  when  the  sail  is  rent  away 
From  the  swift  bark  by  some  God's  vengeful  hand, 
Plung'd  in  an  ocean  of  tempestuous  woe. 
What  house  henceforth  our  reverence  shall  demand. 
If  we  behold  the  race  of  Tantalus  laid  low? 
But  royal  Menelaus  comes,  from  far 
Distinguish'd  by  his  graceful  mien,  as  one 
Who  springs  from  Tantalus'  illustrious  blood ; 


76  ORESTES. 

O  thouy  who  with  a  thousand  ships  didst  anchor 
On  Asia's  coasts^  all  hail ;  for  in  an  hour 
Most  fortunate  com'st  thou  whose  utmost  wishes 
Have  been  acconaplish'd  by  th'  indulgent  Gods. 

M£N£LAUS,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

MENBLAUS. 
Thee,  well-known  mansioB,  from  the  siege  of  Troy 
At  length  returning^  I  with  mingled  pleasure 
And  grief  behold  ;  for  by  severer  wpes 
These  eyes  have  never  seen  a  house  besieg'd. 
Anchoring  at  Malea,  I  the  piteous  tale 
Of  Agamemnon's  fate,  and  by  his  Wife 
How  he  was  slain^  there  learn 'd :  for  from  die  waves 
The  sailor's  prophet  (5)  Glancus,  who  unfoldi 
Sage  Nerens^  oracles,  that  God  renowned 
For  strict  veracity,  arose,  and  utter'd 
With  too  distinct  a  voice  these  words;  ^^  Thy  l^othfr, 
'^  O  Menelaus,  in  th'  accursed  bath 
''  Plung'd  by  his  Consort  lies,  and  thence  no  more 
*'  Shall  he  emerge."     Me  and  my  hardy  troops 
These  tidings  caus'd  to  shed  full  many  a  tear. 
But  soon  as  I  the  coast  of  Nanplia  reach'd^ 
And  landed  Helen  here,  when  I  expected 
To  have  embraced  in  these  fond  arms  Orestes 
The  son  of  Agamemnon,  and  his  mother^ 
As  if  they  yet  had  liv'd  and  prosper'd  both  ; 
I  by  a  certain  fisherman  was  told 
Of  Clytemnestra's  murder.    Gentle  virgins, 
Inform  me  where  is  Agamemnon's  son^ 
Who  dar'd  to  perpetrate  this  impious  deed  ? 

(3)  <^  Apollonius  Rhodius,  in  bis  ArgonauticB,  1. 1.  ver.  1310.  ^  velatei 
'<  a  similar  appearance  of  Glaucus,  who  is  there  likewise  called  the  Pro- 
'<  phet  of  Nerens."  Bninck.  The  appearance  and  prophesy  of  Ghuicus 
to  the  Argonauts  is  likewise  recorded  by  Diodoms  Siculus.  Pansanias 
informs  us,  that  the  Glaucus  here  spoken  of  was  a  fisberqiAn  of  Aqthedon 
in  Bceotia ;  and  that  he  chanced  to  taste  a  certaiQ  lierb,  which  caused 
him  to  become  a  Sea  God,  and  foretell  future  events. 


(JRESTES.  77 

For  he  was  yet  an  infant  iu  the  arms 
Of  Tyiidarus'  daughter^  when  I  left  my  home 
And  saird  for  liion  ;  hence^  should  i  behold^ 
I  cannot  recollect  him. 

ORESTES. 

1  am  he 
For  whom^  O  Menelaus,  you  enquire ; 
I  am  Orestes^  willingly  to  you 
Will  I  disclose  my  sufferings,  but  first  cling 
Around  your  knees,  and  sue  in  humble  words 
For  pity,  tbo'  the  boughs  by  suppliants  borne 
Are  wanting :  save,  O  save  me,  for  you  come 
Just  in  the  crisis  of  my  woes. 

AIENELAUS. 

Ve  Gods, 
What  spectre  from  the  shades  do  I  behold? 

ORESTES. 

Well  have  you  spoken :  for  I  am  too  wretched 
To  be  accounted  still  a  living  man. 
Although  1  view  the  sun. 

MENEIAUS. 

How  bristle  up 
Thy  clotted  locks ! 

ORSSTESl 

My  torments  are  not  owing 
To  what  I  see,  they  spring  from  what  Tve  done. 

MENELAUfl. 

With  those  parched  eye-balls  horribly  thou  glar'st. 

ORESTE& 

My  body  is  consumed ;  but  of  my  name 
I  am  not  yet  deprived. 

BfENEIAUS. 
That  aiter'd  form 
With  wonder  I  behold. 

ORfeSTES. 
I  am  the  mai^ 
Who  slew  my  mother. 


78  ORESTES. 

MENEIAUS. 

This  I  heard  :  no  more; 
For  evil  deeds  should  cautiously  be  mention'd* 

-ORESTES. 

I  cease  :  but  on  my  head  some  Demon  showers 
Abundant  cursea. 

MENELAUS- 
What  dost  thou  endare, 
And  by  what  malady  art  thou  destroyed  ? 

ORESTES. 

By  conscience,  which  brings  1>ack  atrocious  crimet 
To  my  remembrance. 

MENELAUS.   "  "  ' 

What  is  it  thou  mean'st  i 
By  speaking  plainly  wisdom  is  displayed. 
And  not  in  mystic  riddles. 

ORESTES. 

Sorrow  gnaws 
My  inmost  vitals. 

MENELAUS.  .       ,.    .  .       ■/; 

She  is  a  severe,  Hfeti^ 

Yet  placable  Divinity.  ^^^ 

ORESTES.  .    '.:  .*   <:::    /r;  >•       . 

Combin'd 
With  madness  to  avenge  my  mother's  blood* 

MENELAUS.-  '  •"    •-•T 

But  when  began  this  frfen2y  I  name  the  day. 

ORESTES. 

As  o'er  my  wretched  mother'i^  corse  I  heaped 
The  tomb.  •         iC 

MENELAUS.  ■'  '^  ■'■/•■  ■■■•  ■''    ^^ 

Wert  thou  at  home/ or  didst  thou  sit 
By  the  funereal  pyre  f 

ORESTES.  •>    . 

A  nightly,  guard 
Over  her  bones  I  watched. 


ORESTES.  79 

MENELAUS. 

To  raise  thee  up 
From  earth,  when  fallen,  was  any  one  at  hand7 

ORESTES. 

Yes,  Py lades,  who  joined  with  me  to  slay 
My  mother,  partner  in  the  bloody  deed. 

MENELAUS. 

But  by  what  phantoms  art  thou  vex'd  ? 

ORESTES. 

Methought 
I  saw  three  hideous  maids  arise^  whose  loorks 
Resemble  night. 

MENELAUS. 

The  virgins  thou  describ'st 
I  know^  l)ut  will  not  name  them. 

ORESTES. 

They  inspire 
Just 'awe;  beware,  and  speak  not  of  them^  rashly. 

MENELAUS. 

Do  they,  in  vengeance  for  maternal  gore. 
Inflame  thy  soul  with  madness. 
,,;i^>  ORESTES. 

Wretched  me ! 
With  what  inveterate  rage  am  I  pursued ! 

MENELAUS. 

Are  not  such  horrid  punishments  the  due 
Of  those  who  perpetrate  these  horrid  deeds  ^ 

ORESTES. 

But  from  myself  can  I  transfer  the  charge  •— 

MENELAUS. 
O  speak  not  of  thy  father's  death  :  for  this 
Were  indiscreet. 

ORESTIES. 

On  Phoebus,  whoenjoin'd  me 
To  slay  my  mother. 

MENELAUS. 

lo  the  laws^  of  justice 
And  honor  inexperienc'd. 


go  ORESTES. 

We  obey 
The  Gcm)'  commaDds;  for  whatsoe'er  they  bci 
Still  are  they  Gods. 

MENEIAUS. 

Doth  not  Apollo  yield 
Some  aid  in  thy  afflictions? 

ORESTES. 
He  delays  : 
Slow  is  the  nature  of  th'  immortal  powers. 

MENEIAU& 

How  long  the  time  since  Clytemnestra  drew 
Her  latest  breath  ? 

ORESTES. 

Six  days :  the  pyre  yet  smokes. 

MENELAUS. 

How  swiftly  do  those  Goddesses  from  thee 
Claim  an  atonement  for  thy  mother's  death ! 

ORESTES. 

Unwisely^  yet  with  truth  against  thy  friends 
Hast  thou  maintain'd  this  charge. 

MENELAUS. 

Of  what  avail 
To  thee  hath  been  this  vengeance  of  thy  Sire? 

ORESTES. 
It  hath  not  yet  availed  me^  and  I  deem 
Whatever  is  delay'd  a  thing  of  nought. 

MENELAUS. 

How  stand'st  thou  in  th'  affections  of  the  city^ 
After  this  action  ? 

ORESTES. 

I  am  so  abhorr'd^ 
That  none  will  speak  to  me. 

MENELAUS. 

Hast  thou  neglected^ 
By  such  lustrations  as  the  laws  ordain^ 
To  cleanse  thy  bloody  hands  i 


ORESTES.  81 

ORESTES. 

^Gainst  me  the  doors 
Of  every  house  to  which  I  go  are  clos'd, 

MENELAUS; 

What  citizens  are  thej^,  who  from  the  land 

Strive  to  expel  thee  ? 

ORESTES. 

Oeax,  who  transfers 
To  me  the  hate  which  he  against  my  Sire 
Conceiv'd  at  Troy. 

MENELAUS. 

I  understand  thee  well ; 
On  thee  this  furious  brother  Would  avenge 
The  death  of  Palamedes, 

ORESTES. 

In  that  crime 
I  shar'd  not :  but  I  (4)  utterly  am  ruin'd. 

MENELAUS. 

/Who  else  conspire  against  thee  ?  are  they  some 
Of  slain  -ffigisthus'  friends  ? 

ORESTES. 

With  cruel  taunts. 
They  who  engage  the  public  ear,  revile  me. 

MENELAUS. 

But  do  they  still  allow  thee  to  retain 
The  sceptre  7\gamemnon  bore  ? 

ORESTES. 

What  mean  you? 
They  will  not  even  suffer  me  to  live. 

MENELAUS. 

Inform  me  as  distinctly  ias  thou  canst, 

(4)  Brunck,  in  a  note  on  tliis  Hne,  which  has  caused  a  variety  of  opinions 
among  the  preceding  commentators,  and  induced  Dr.  Morell  and  Dr. 
Musgrave  to  hazard  each  his  different  conjectural  alteration,  observes, 
that  the  expression  iia  r^m,  bic  nihil  aliud  est  quam,  Ua/luyn  aut  iice/lt^. 
The  term  rfiKUfxuusy  in  the  Troades,  is  with  one  assent  rendered  gravibus 
procellis;  and  it  is  well  known,  that  the  term  *^  thrice^  is  ftequently  used, 
as  well  in  tbe  English  language  as  in  the  antient  classical  writers^  to  de- 
note **  very,"  as  9^;  /Moxo^t;,  ter  beati,  thrice  happy. 

VOL*  !•  O 


82  ORESTES. 

What  practices  are  carrying  on  against  thee. 

ORESTES. 

On  us  this  day  is  sentence  to  be  pass'd. 

MENELAUS. 

Exile^  or  death,  or  some what^  short  of  death  ? 

ORESTES. 
We  by  th'  assembled  city  shall  be  ston'd. 

MENELAUS. 
But  from  the  limits  of  this  realni  by  flight, 
VVh}'  dost  not  thou  escape  ? 

ORESTES. 

With  brazen  arms 
Am  I  encompassM. 

MENELAUS. 

By  thy  private  foes, 
Or  the  whole  realm  of  Argos  ? 

ORESTES. 

In  one  word. 
All  are  combined  to  take  my  life  away. 

MENELAUS. 

O  wretched  man,  on  tlie  extremest  verge 
Of  fate  thou  stand'st. 

ORESTES.    * 

On  you  I  rest  the  hope 
OF  finding  an  asylum  in  my  woes  : 
But  since  a  prosperous  visitant  you  come 
To  the  unhappy,  portion  out  your  bliss 
Among  your  friends,  nor  to  yourself  alone 
Keep  all  the  good  you  freely  have  received ; 
But  be  content  to  share  my  labours  too. 
My  father's  benefits,  to  me  his  son 
Repaying,  who  such  debts  with  justice  claim  : 
For  they  who  in  calamity  desert  us, 
Are  but  in  name,  and  not  in  deed,  our  friends. 

CHORUS. 
Behold  the  Spartan  Tyndarus  hither  comes 
Tottering  with  aged  step,  in  sable  vest 


ORESTES.  8S 

Array'd,  and  shorn  in  a  funereal  guise 
For  his  slain  daughter. 

ORESTES. 

I>  O  Menelaus, 
Expire,  for  Tyndarus  hither  doth  advance. 
He,  in  wliose  presence,  conscious  as  I  am 
Of  these  foul  deeds,  it  shames  me  to  appear. 
For  he  and  Leda  nourish'd  me,  while  yet 
I  was  an  infant,  and  on  me  bestow'd 
Pull  many  a  kiss,  as  in  their  arms  they  bore 
The  son  of  Agamemnon^  and  rever'd  me 
No  less  than  the  immortal  Twins  of  Jove. 
Them,  for  such  kindness,  (O  my  wretched  heart !) 
Have  I  with  foul  ingratitude  repaid. 
What  darkness  o'er  my  visage  shall  I  spread. 
Or  how  before  me  place  so  thick  a  cloud. 
As  to  conceal  me  from  the  searching  eyes 
Of  that  incens'd  and  venerable  man  ? 

TYNDARUS,  MENELAUS,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

TYNDARUS. 

Where  is  my  daughter's  husband  Menelaus  ? 
For  as  I  pour'd  libations  on  the  tomb 
Of  Clytemnestra ;  with  his  wife  I  heard 
He  had  in  safety  reach'd  the  Nauplian  coast. 
After  an  absence  of  full  many  years. 
Lead  on  ;  for  close  beside  him  would  I  stand 
Ready  to  greet  my  friend,  whom  it  is  long 
Since  I  have  seen. 

MENELAUS. 

Hail,  O  thou  aged  man. 
Who  didst  enjoy  with  Jove  one  common  bide. 

TYNDARUS. 

Thee  too,  my  son-in-law>  may  health  attend ! 
Ah,  how  unhappy  is  it  that  we  know  not 
Aught  of  the  future !  He,  the  wretch  I  hate. 
That  serpent  reeking  with  maternal  gore, 

e  2 


84  ORESTES* 

Before  the  portals  brandishes  his  stingy 

And  darts  forth  venom.     To  this  impious  inurdere^^ 

O  Menelaus,  wherefore  wilt  thou  speak  ? 

MENELAUS. 

What  mean'st  thou  ?    He's  my  dearest  brother's  son* 

TYNDARUS, 

Could  one.  so  vile  from  him  derive  his  birth  ? 

MENELAUS. 

From  Agamemnon  sprung^  he  justly  claims 
My  reverence,  if  unhappy. 

TYNDARUS. 

Thou  hast  sojourn'd 
Among  Barbarians,  till  thou  art  thyself 
Grown  a  Barbarian. 

MENELAUS,  r  ., 

Tis  a  Grecian  part, 
Our  kindred  ever  to  revere* 

TYNDARUS. 

Nor  aim 
At  soaring  'bove  the  laws. 

MENELAUS. 

The  wise  submit 
To  whatsoe'er  necessity  ordains. 

TYNDARUS. 

Hold,  if  thou  wilt,  a  principle  so  mean ; 
I  scorn  in  these  opinions  to  concur. 

MENELAUS. 

Passion  conspiring  with  old  age  obscures 
Thv  reason. 

TYNDARUS. 

Was  the  subject  of  my  strife 
With  him  about  pre-eminence  in  wisdom? 
If  what  is  right  and  wrong,  to  all  mankind^ 
Be  evident :  what  foUv  can  exceed 
That  of  the  impious  wretch,  who  hath  not  paid 
To  justice  due  attention^  nor  observed 
Those  public  laws,  by  which  all  Greece  is  bound  I 


/t 


ORESTES.  fi5 

For,  smitten  by  my  daughter's  ruthless  hand. 
Since  Agamemnon  breath'd  his  last  (a  deed 
So  infamous  I  never  can  applaud) 
'Gainst  her,  Orestes  was  in  duty  bound 
To  have  required  atonement  for  the  blood 
Of  his  slain  father,  urging  the  pursuit 
Till  from  the  paliace  he  had  cast  her  forth 
An  exile;  hence,  in  this  distressful  state. 
He  by  forbearance  had  obtained  renown, 
And  shewn  a  pious  reverence  for  the  laws  : 
But  with  his  mother  now  is  he  involv'd 
In  equal  guilt. ;  for  while  he  justly  deem'd 
That  she  was  wicked,   he  himself  became 
More  wicked  by  her  murder.     I  this  question 
To  thee,  O  Menelaus,  will  propose ; 
If  fn  her  husband's  blood  a  wife  imbrue 
Her  hands,  and,  to  avenge  his  death,  the  son 
Should  slay  the  mother,  and  himself  t'  atone 
For  such  a  deed,  by  his  own  offspring  fall. 
What  endless  train  of  horrors  would  ensye  ! 
In  antient  days  our  sires  this  wholesome  law 
Enacled,  that,  the  man  who  had  committed 
An  act  of  homicide,  should  ne'er  appear 
In  public,  or  in  social  converse  join  ; 
By  banishment  they  purg'd  his  crimes  away. 
But  suffered  not  th*  avenger  to  destroy  him. 
For  otherwise  must  he,  whose  hands  receive 
The  last  defilement,  ever  be  expos'd 
To  strict  retaliation.     I  abhor 
All  impious  women,  and  my  daughter  first 
AVho  slew  her  Lord;  yet  on  thy  consort  Helen 
No  praise  can  I  bestow,  nor  will  I  parly 
With  her,  qor  thee  applaud,  who  in  the  cause 
Of  that  vile  prostitute  didst  sail  for  Troy. 
But  with  my  utmost  power  will  I  assert 
The  laws  prohibiting  these  murderous  deeds 
Qf  brutal  force  which  ever  prove  the  bane 


f  " 


86  OREST^. 

Of  empires  and  of  cities.    For,  O  wretch. 

How  voi(}  of  tender  pity  was  your  soul, 

When  your  unhappy  mother  bar'd  her  breast. 

And  at  your  knees  a  suppliant  fell !  I  saw  not 

Those  horrors,  yet  ray  aged  eyes  overflow 

With  tears.     One  circumstance  confirms  the  truth 

Of  what  I  say ;  detested  by  the  Gods 

For  having  slain  your  mother,  you  are  doom'd 

To  wander  stung  by  frenzy  and  by  fear. 

In  matters  which  ourselves  discern,  what  need 

Of  evidence  ?     Be  warn'd,  O  Mehelaus, 

Nor  act  in  opposition  to  the  Gods 

By  an  attempt  to  succour  him;  permit 

The  citizens  to  stone  him,  or  thou  ne'er 

To  thy  domains  at  Sparta  shalt  return. 

Although  my  daughter  in  her  death  but  suffered 

What  she  deserv'd,  she  ought  to  have  escaped 

The  weapon  of  a  son.     In  all  things  else 

I  justly  may  be  styl'd  a  happy  man. 

But  am,  alas  !  most  wretched  in  xx\y  daughters. 

CHORUS. 

Blest  is  the  man,  who  in  his  children  proves 
So  fortunate,  as  not  to  find  them  sources 
Of  greaj;  palamity. 

ORESTES. 
I  dread  to  speak 
Before  thee,  «ged  monarch,  since  my  words 
^ust  fill  thy  soul  with  grief;  in  that  I  slew 
My  mother,  I  am  impious,  but  deserve 
To  be  accounted  pious,  call  the  deed 
I  have  committed  by  another  name. 
Just  vengeance  for  nay  father :  O  retreat. 
While  I  my  cause  &m  pleading,  aged  man, 
Bepause  thy  presence  interrupts  my  Speech  ! 
And  I  proceed :  but  now,  by  thy  grey  hairs. 
Am  I  o'eraw'd.     How  ought  I  to  have  acted  I 
Weigjj  both  my  parents  in  an  equal  scale  \ 


ORESTES.  87 

» 

My  Sire  begot,  thy  Daughter  brought  me  forth  : 

As  the  tiird  ground  receives  the  scattered  grain ; 

Without  the  father  never  could  the  child 

Have  had  a  being  :  hence  I  reasoned  thus; 

I  to  the  cause  of  my  existence  ought 

To  furnish  succour,  rather  than  to  her 

Who  only  gave  me  nurture.     But  thy  Daughter 

(On  whom  I  blush  to  waste  the  honoured  liame 

Of  Mother)  sought  stol'n  pleasures,  and  ascended 

The  bed  of  an  adulterer :  on  myself. 

Will  the  reproach  I  cast  on  her,  rebound ; 

Yet  speak  I  must.     Within  this  palace  lurk'd 

Her  secret  husband,  the  accurst  JEgisthus ; 

Him  first  I  slew,  nor  sheath'd  my  vengeful  sword 

Till  I  had  stain'd  it  with  maternal  gore  ; 

The  laws  indeed  I  broke,  but  have  exacted 

A  strict  requital  for  my  Father's,  death  : 

Vet  since  for  this,  'gainst  me  thou  hast  pronounc'd 

The  threat  of  being  ston'd  ;  hear  how  I  serv'd 

All  Greece  ;  for  if  our  women  should  attain 

To  such  a  pitch  of  boldness  as  to  slay 

^heir  Lords,  and  then  fly  with  their  bosoms  bar'd. 

Imploring  pity,  to  their  sons  for  refuge, 

The  murder  of  their  husbands  would  be  held 

'Mongst  them  no  fault,  when  any  slight  pretence 

43ccurs  to  give  a  sanction.     By  committing 

This  deed,  which  thou  call'st  horrid,  I  suppressed 

Such  usage,  and,  with  virtuous  hatred  fir^d 

Against  my  mother,  justly  smote  the  Dame, 

Who  to  her  Lord  was  false,  while  he  fron^  home 

In  brazen  arms  was  absent,  mighty  Chief 

Of  the  whole  Grecian  land  ;  nor  undefil'd 

Preserv'd  her  nuptial  couch  :  yet,  by  the  stings 

Of  conscience  goaded  for  that  foul  offence. 

No  penalty  imposing  on  herself, 

Wreak'd  bitter  vengeance  on  her  husband's  head, 

An(J,   to  avoid  his  just  resentment,  slew 


.    -N 


88  ORESTES. 

My  Father.    By  the  Gods,  (tho'  while  I  plead 

The  cause  of  blood,  it  misbecomes  my  tongue    * 

To  mention  the  immortal  Powers)  in  silence 

Had  I  conuiv'd  at  the  foul  deeds  my  Mother 

Committed,  what  would  my  slain  Sire  have  done 

To  punish  me  ?  would  not  his  hate  have  rous'd 

The  Furies  ?   To  avenge  my  Mother's  death 

If  those  ren^orseless  Goddesses  attend. 

Would  not  his  greater  wrongs  have  claimed  their  aid  ?• 

Thou,  in  begetting  that  abandoned  Daughter, 

Didst  ruin  me,  O  venerable  Man, 

For  of  my  Father  in  an  evil  hour 

Heft  by  her  daring  lust,  am  I  become 

My  Mother's  murderer.     Mark  Ulysses'  Wife ; 

Telemachus  destroy'd  not  her ;  for  she 

Form'd  with  no  second  Lord  the  nuptial  league. 

Her  first  yet  living :  in  her  house  renxains 

A  spotless  bridal  couch.  Observe  how  Phgebus,  • 

Erecting  in  the  center  of  the  world 

His  fane,  dispenses  oracles  to  man 

Which  never  cr.n  mislead,  whose  dread  behests 

With  an  implicit  reverepce  all  obey; 

By  him  enjoin'd^  my  mother  have  I  slain, 

Condemn  him  then  as  impious,  let  him  bjeed. 

He  sinn'd,  but  I  was  guiltless.     What  remain'd 

For  me  to  do  ?  Is  not  the  God  himself. 

When  I  to  him  transfer  the  charge,  sufficient 

To  expiate  my, offence  ?  Where  shall  th'  accus'd 

Henceforth  for  shelter  fly,  if  his  command 

Rescue  me  not  from  death  ?  Forb^ear  to  charge  me 

With  acting  wrong,  but  rather  ss^y,  that  this 

To  me  hath  prov'd  an  inauspicious  deed, 

Blest  is  the  life  of  him  whose  nuptial  choice 

Is  wisely  made;  but  he  who  to  his  arras 

Takes  an  unworthy  Consort,  when  at  home. 

And  when  abrpac},  is  wretched. 


ORESTES.  89 

CHORUS. 

In  the  hour 
Of  adverse  fortune,  ever  near  at  hand 
Is  woman,  to  augment  the  woes  of  man, 

TYNDARUS. 

Since,  flush'd  with  brutal  arrogance  you  pay 
No.  deference  to  my  arguments,  but  make 
Such  harsh  replies  ^s  wound  my  inmost  soul. 
The  more  my  just  resentment  wjU  you  rouse. 
Till  I  your  death  have  compass'd ;  to  the  toils 
Of  an  unwelcome  ofEce,  the  adorning 
My  daughter's  tomb,  which  caus'd  me  to  come  hither. 
Hence  shall  I  add  renown  :  for  I  will  go 
Tp  the  assembled  Argives,  and  stir  up 
The  citizens,   aheady  well  disposed 
Without  reluctance  to  drag  forth  and  stone 
You  and  your  sister,  who  deserves  to  die 
Yet  more  than  you,  because  she  'gainst  yourmother 
£mbitter*d  you  :  she  ever  did  instil 
Into  your  ear  words  to  provoke  your  hate, 
Recounting  dreams  by  Agamemnon  sent, 
An'd  how  the  powers  of  hell  beneath  abhorr'd 
^gisthus'  nuptials  ;  on  this  theme  she  long 
With.raijpor  dwjelt,  till,   kindled  by  her  breath. 
These  mansions  caught  a  flame  yet  more  intense 
Than  that  of  Vulcan's  forge.    O  Menelaus, 
What  I  to  thee  profess,  I  will  perform, 
If  thou  the  least  regard  to  my  resentment 
Or  our  affiqity  would'st  pay,  that  wretch 
Protect  not  in  de^ance  of  the  Gods : 
Suffer  the  citizens  with  stones  to  slav  him. 
Or  thou  to  Sparta  never  shalt  return. 
Remember  the  advice  thou  hear'st,  nor  choose 
The  impious  for  thy  friends^  and  slight  the  good. 
|!ipad  Die^  my  servants,  from  this  loath'd  abode. 

[^Exii  TYNDARUS, 


go  ORESTES, 

ORESTES. 

Depart,  that  what  I  have  to  say  may  reach 
HisX^^r  without  disturbance,  and  escape 
Thy  virulent  old  age.  — But  whither  turn 
Your  feet,  O  Menelaus,  with  that  air 
Of  anxious  thought,  'twixt  two  opinions  lost, 
As  if  you  entered  on  a  road  obscure 
And  intricate  f 

MENELAUS. 

O  leave  me  !  many  thoughts 
In  iny  own  soul  revolving,  I  yet  know  not 
With  whom  I  in  this  crisis  ought  to  side. 

ORESTES. 

Form  no  conclusive  judgement  now  ^  but,  hearing^ 
My  arguments,  on  them  your  counsels  ground. 

MENELAUS. 

Proceed  in  thy  defence  ;  'twas  wisely  urg'd  : 
Toy  silence,  and  a  fluency  of  words. 
Each  in  due  season  may  the  preference  claim. 

ORESTES. 
Encourag'd  thus,  I  speak :  a  long  narration 
Hath  in  my  case  th'  advantage  of  a  brief  one. 
And  is  by  far  more  clear.     On  me  bestow 
None  of  your  wealth,  but  make  a  due  return 
For  bounties  which  on  you  my  father  shower'd  : 
I  mean  not  to  solicit  you  for  gold, 
But  a  possession  to  my  soul  most  dear, 
If  you  my  life  preserve.     Do  I  exceed 
The  bounds  of  justice  in  this  fond  request  ? 
From  you,   since  I  am  wretched,  I  deserve 
Somewhat  beyond  what  I  could  justly  claim: 
For  Agamemnon,  my  illustrious  Sire^ 
Generous,  not  merely  just,  the  host  of  Greece 
Assembling,  sail'd  for  Troy;    the  Chief  himself 
Transgressed  not,  but  came  forward  to  exact 
Atonement  for  the  crime  of  him  who  stole 
Your  Consort,     Sure  a  benefit  like  this 


ORESTES,  or 

Claims  AQ  equivalent.     As  for  their  friends 

Friends  ought  to  act,  in  battle  he  expos'd 

For  you  his  person  to  severest  toils, 

That  you  the  ravish'd  Helen  might  regain. 

Then  grant  me  back  this  favour  in  the  stead 

Of  all  which  you  at  Ilion  have  received  ;  ; 

Py  danger  unappall'd,  one  single  day 

Stand  forth  to  save  me,  not  ten  tedious  years. 

To  you  my  sister  I  resign,  who  bled 

A  spotless  victim  at  the  straits  of  Aulis ; 

3Iay  not  Hermione  to  make  atonement. 

For  you  were  born,  on  me  while  fortune  lours  * 

^  at  the  present  moment,  to  be  blest 

And  merciful  to  me  :  but  spare  my  life, 

]Both  for  the  sake  of  my  unhappy  father, 

And  of  my  sister,  who  hath  long  remain*d 

/k.  virgin :  since,   by  dying,  I  shall  leave  i 

Without  an  heir  the  mansions  of  my  Sire. 

You'll  say  ;  "  that  'tis  impossible  to  grant 

What  I  request."    But  it  behoves  a  friend. 

His  friends  in  their  calamity  to  aid  : 

For  when  with  bounteous  hand  propitious  Fortune 

Scatters  her  gifts,  what  need  have  we  of  friends? 

3ufficient  is  the  Goddess,  if  dispos'd 

Per  votaries  to  protect.    To  all  the  Greeks, 

You  seem  to  love  your  Consort ;  this  I  say  not 

TT  insinuate  myself  by  flattering  arts 

Into  your  favor:  in  her  name  I  sue. 

Wretch  that  I  am,  how  low  doth  my  distress 

Force  me  to  stoop !  yet  why  should  I  be  loth 

To  use  entreaties,  since  for  our  whole  house 

I  intercede  !  O  Brother  of  my  Sire, 

Think  the  deceased  amid  the  shades  beneath 

Now  hears  my  voice,  and,   hov'ring  o'er  your  liead 

A  disetnbodied  spirit,  in  such  words 

As  I  have  done,  accost^  you.     This  I  utter 

Midst  tears,  and  plaints,  and  woes,  and  crouch  for  lire 

Which  all,  and  not  I  only,  strive  to  save. 


d2  ORESTES.  • 

CHORUS. 

With  him,  I  loo,  a  female  suppliant  join 
In  these  entreaties  ;  succour  the  distrest. 
For  thou  art  able ! 

MENELAUS. 

I  for  thee,  Orestes, 
A  strong  attachment  feel,  and  would  partake 
in  thy  disastrous  fortunes ;  for  we  ought 
Thus  to  relieve  our  kinsman's  woes,  if  Heaven 
With  strength  endue  us,  midst  impending  deatbj^ 
And  covered  with  the  slaughter  of  our  foes. 
Yet  need  I  the  assistance  of  the  Gods 
T'  enable  me  :  for  in  a  bark  unfurnished 
With  combatants  I  come,  a  wanderer  harass'4 
By  toils  unnumber'd  5  my  surviving  friends 
Are  but  a  feeble,  and  a  scanty  band  : 
In  battle  therefore  cannot  I  subdue 
Pelasgian  Argos ;  but,  if  gentle  words 
Have  an}'  force,  on  them  my  hopes  I  ground. 
How  should  the  efforts  of  the  weak  prevail 
Over  the  mighty  ?  to  indulge  a  wish 
Like  this,  were  madness.     For  when  anger  once 
Finds  entrance  in  the  people's  breasts,  to  tame 
Their  fury,  is  as  hard  as  to  extinguish 
.  A  conflagration  ;  but  if  we  give  way 
To  their  impetuous  spirit,  and  observe 
Our  proper  season^  it  perhaps  will  spe^d 
Its  vehemence,  and  when  their  heat  subsides. 
We  easily  may  mold  them  to  our  will ; 
Great  is  their  pity  and  their  rage:  to  those 
Who  watch  their  opportunity,  they  prove 
The  best  of  friends.     But  I  wil]  go  and  strive 
On  Tyndarus  and  the  Gity  to  prevail 
Ta  make  a  moderate  use  of  power  supreme. 
For  when  its  rudder's  strain'd,  beneath  the  waves^ 
The  vessel  sinks;   but  if  we  loose  the  bands. 
Again  it  rises.     Courage  unrestrained 
To  Jove  himself  is  odious,  and  abhorrec} 


«►  ORESTES-  93 

By  all  mankind  ;  to  save  thee  now  from  foes 
Mightier  than  we,  discretion  and  not  strength 
Td  what  I  need,  nbr  speak  I  thus  at  random. 
Not  by  my  prowess  in  th'  embattled  field. 
As  thou  perhaps  may'st  deem,  could  I  pTrotect  thee  : 
Nor  were  it  easy  for  one  single  lance 
Amidst  the  evils  which  around  thee  swatm, 
Tb  raise  the  victor's  trophies ;  else  I  ne'er 
'Would  have  accosted,  in  a  soothing  strain 
Th'  inhabitants  of  Argos  :  but  the  wise 
Are  now  constrain'd  to  be  the  slaves  of  fortune. 

[£j:if-MENElAUS» 
ORESTES. 

O  thou,  in  all  things  else  devoid  of  merit, 
.  Except  to  combat  in  a  woman's  cause. 
Who  hast  no  spirit  to  protect  thy  friends. 
Dost  thou  forsake  me  with  averted  eyes? 
Were  Agamemnon's  benefits  in  vain 
Lavish'd  on  thee  ?  in  thy  distress,  my  father, 
Thou  hadst  no  friend.     Ah  me!  I  am  betray'd. 
No  hopes  of  any  shelter  now  remain 
Whither  I  may  betake  me,  to  escape 
From  Argos  and  from  death  :  for  I  in  him 
As  a  secure  asylum  plac'd  my  trust. 
But  lo  my  Pylades,  that  best  of  men. 
From  Phocis  hastening,  greets  my  raptur'd  eyes. 
In  our  adversity  the  faithful  friend 
Is  a  more  pleasing  object  than  a  calm 
To  mariners. 

PYLADES,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

PYLADES. 

I,  with  the  utmost  speed. 
Came  through  the  city,  when  I  heard  and  saw 
The  people  were  assembled  to  pass  judgement 
On  you  and  on  your  sister,  whom  they  seem 
Resolved  to  slay  immediately.  .How  fare  you. 


f 
^ 


94  ORESTES. 

What  are  you  doing,  dearest  comrade,  frJertdy 
And  kinsman  ?  for  to  me  are  you  all  these  ! 

ORESTES. 

In  one  short  word,  to  sura  up  all  my  woes^ 
I  perish. 

PYLADES. 

Me  too,  by  the  roots  torn  up, 
In  the  same  fate  will  you  involve;  for  friends 
Have  but  one  common  interest. 

dRESTES. 

Both  to  me. 
And  to  my  sister,  Menelaus  proves 
Most  base. 

PYLADES. 
How  natural  is  it>  that  the  husbancf 
Of  that  abandoned  woman  should  be  wicked! 

ORESTES. 

As  well  for  me  if  he  had  ne'er  arrived. 

PYLADES. 

But  is  he  landed  on  these  shores  indeed  ? 

ORESTES. 

After  a  long  delay  :  but  I  full  soon 
Perceiv'd  that  he  Was  treacherous  to  his  friends. 

PYLADES. 

And  was  the  bark,  in  which  he  hither  came. 
Freighted  with  his  vile  wife? 

ORESTES. 

He  brought  not  her. 
But  him  she  hither  brings. 

PYLADES. 

Where  is  that  Dame 
Who  slew  so  many  Greeks  ? 

ORESTES. 

Here  in  my  palace. 
If  I  may  venture  yet  to  call  it  mine. 

PYLADES. 

What  said  you  to  the  brother  of  your  sire  ? 


ORESTES.  95 

ORESTES. 

Him  I  conjur'd,  not  tamely  to  behold 
Me  and  my  sister  by  the  people  slain. 

PYLADES. 

Just  heavens !  what  answer  made  he?  tell  me  aj^ 

ORESTES,  *^ 

With  that  ungenerous  caution  he  behav'd, 
\Vhich  to  their  friends  is  practis'd  by  false  friends* 

PYLADES. 

What  plausible  excuse  could  he  allege  ? 

When  this  I  know,  I  shall  have  learnt  the  whole. 

ORESTES. 

The  sire  of  those  egregious  females  came. 

PYLADES; 

Tyndarus  you  mean ;  inflam'd  perhaps  with  rage 
'Gahist  you  for  his  slain  daughter. 

ORESTES. 

Thou  art  right, 
And  such  affinity  did  he  prefer 
To  my  sire's  cause. 

PYLADES. 

Nor  dar'd  he  to  partake 
Your  toils,  tho'  present  when  you  claim'd  his  aid? 

ORESTES. 

Unwont  to  launch  the  spear,  this  Chief  displays 
His  courage  only  for  a  female  prize. 

PYLADES. 

Your  miseries  are  extreme,  and  fate  ordains 
That  you  shall  die. 

ORESTES. 
We,  for  our  mother's  bloody 
Must  by  the  citizens  be  judg'd. 

PYLADES. 

What  sentence 
Will  they  pronounce  ?  for  greatly  do  I  fear. 

ORESTES. 
Our  death,  or  life  :    for,  by  one  single  word. 


96  ORESTES. 

The  most  important  questions  they  decide.   . 

PYLADES. 

Leave  these  abodes,  aAd  with  your  sister  flyy 

ORESTES. 

Perceive  you  not,  by  guards  on  every  side. 
How  strictly  we  are  watch'd  ? 

PYLADES. 

I  saw  the  streets 
Impervious,  and  beset  with  hostile  spears. 

ORESTES. 

Here,  like  a  city,  by  an  host  of  foes 
I  closely  am  beleaguer'd. 

PYLADES. 

How  I  fare. 
Now  ask,  for  I  too  utterly  am  ruin'd. 

ORESTES. 

By  whom  ?  thro'  the  misfortune  of  my  friendi 
Will  my  calamities  become  more  gxievous. 

PYLADES. 

My  father  Strophius  from  my  native  laud 
Hath  banish'd  me  in  anger. 

ORESTES. 

On  a  charge 
Of  some  offence  committed  'gainst  himself. 
Or  'gainst  the  public  i 

PYLADES. 

For  assisting  you 
To  slay  your  mother,  which  he  terms  a  deed 
Most  impious. 

ORESTES. 

Wretched  kinsman  !  in.  my  woes 
You  seem  to  be  involv'd. 

PYLADES. 

I  will  not  act 
Like  Menelaus  :  them  I  ought  to  bear. 

ORESTES. 

Have  you  no  fear,  lest  Argos  should  deprive 


OBXSTEQ.  97 

You  too  of  life?  ..,  r  . 

.  No  right  to  punish  me 
Hath  Argosj  ipr  to  Phocis  I  belong. 

ORATES. 

The  maltittide  is  terrible^  when  led 
By  Chiefs  unprincipled* 

%  PYLADES. 

But  well  dispos*d^ 
If  virtuous  men  bear  rule. 

ORESTES. 

Enough :  my  cause 
In  public  am  I  now  constraint  to  plead. 

PYLADES. 

By  what  resistless  destiny  impell'd  i 

ORESTES. 

If  I  before  the  citizens  should  go. 
And  say  — — 

'  PYIAPES. 

You  acted  justly  i 
ORESTE& 

In  avenging 
My  father's  death. 

PYLADES. 

I  fear  they  would  receive 
This  plea  unfavourably. 

ORESTES. 

With  terror  smitten. 

Or  should  I  die  in  silence—  .. 

PYLADES. 

i  This  were  mean 

And  dastardly;  -  '^.  ::     . 

ORESTES. 

How  then  shall  I  proceed  ? 

PYLADES. 

Have  you  the  smallest  chance,  if  here  you  stay. 
Of  being  sav'd  i 

ORESTES. 

^  I  have  not. 

VOL.  I.  H 


98  ORESTES. 

PYLADES.  ^  *    ?:iC 

If  you  go 
Before  the  people^  is  there  dot  sbihe  hope 
Of  gaining  a  deliverance  fmm  yoiir  woes?'         .  '^ 

ORESTES. 

Twere  possible  if  fortune  thus  ordain. 

PYIADES. 

This  is  far  better  than  continuing  here. 

ORESTES. 

Shall  I  then  go  ? 

PYIADES. 

,  You  hence  ensure^  if  doomed 
To  die,  a  far  more  honourable  death. 

ORESTES* 

My  cause  is  just. 

PYIADES. 

O  may  it  thus  appear! 

ORESTES. 

Well  have  you  spoken  ;  so  shall  I  escape 
The  imputation  of  a  timid  conduct. 

PYIADES. 

Rather  than  if  you  here  remained. 

ORESTES. 

And  some 
Perhaps  with  pity  may  behbld  my  fall. 

PYIADES. 

Great  is  the  influence  of  your  noble  birth. 

ORESTES. 

My  father's  death  reaenting  — 

PYIADES. 

All  these  facts 
Before  their  eyes  place  in  the  strongest  light. 

ORESTES. 

I  must  go  forth  ;  it  ill  becomes  a  man 
To  die  ingloriously. 

PYIADES. 

Your  bold  resolve, 
I  praise*- 


ORESt&H^ 


»i 


■  -x 


OltESTESr. 

Shall  we  disclose  it  to  my  sister? 

PYLADES. 

Name  it  not,  I  conjure  you  by  the  Gods. 

ORESTES. 

She  might  shed  tears. 

PYIADES. 

Which  were  an  evil  omen* 

ORESTES* 

Twere  evidently  best  then  to  be  silent 

PYLADES. 

You  by  delay  will  some  advantage  gain. 

ORESTES. 

One  obstacle  alone  remains. 

PYIADES. 

Why  start 
Fresh  scruples  ? 

ORESTES. 

Lest  those  Goddesses  should  seize  me 
With  frenzy. 

PYLADES. 

On  my  fostering  care  rely. 

ORESTES. 

Loathsome  it  is  to  handle  the  diseased. 

PYLADES. 

Not  so  to  me^  while  you  I  tend. 

ORESTES. 

Beware, 
Lest  you  partake  my  frenzy. 

PYLADES. 

Such  vain  fears 
I  utterly  discard. 

ORESTES. 
Will  you  not  loiter  ? 

PYLAtoES. 

Great  evils  among  friends  from  loitering  rise. 

ORESTES. 

O  faithful  rudder  of  my  steps^  pix>ceed. 

US 


■»  ■'  w    -    ^  "     ' 


lOQ  ORESTES. 

PYIADES. 

Pleas'd  with  such  charge. 

ORESTES. 

Apd  to  my  fathei^s  tomb 
Conduct  me. 

PYLADESk 

For  what  purpose  thither  go  .'^    •     >• 

ORESTES. 

I  would  implore  his  tutelary  aid. 

PYLADES. 

This  were  a  prdper  hdmage^ 

ORESTES. 

But  not -View 

My  mother^s  tomb. 

FYIADES.    .        . 

Because  she  was  a  foe. 

But  ere  the  Argivesy^od  J)y  their  votes 

Condemn  you,  haste,  and  lean  upon  this  arm 

Your  feeble  body  wasted  with  disease. 

For  I  will  lead  you  thro'the  public  streets 

By  shame  unmov'd,  and  heedless  of  the  crowd. 

Of  real  friendship  how  could  I  give  proof. 

If  I  *mid  such  calamities  refiis'd  •  ' 

To  aid  you? 

..    ORESTES^  > 

This  it  i^  tcr  bavcrtrue  friends. 

And  not  relations  onjjj^?  for  the  ffiaf>> 

By  similarity  of  manner  jipin'di 

Although  he  be  an  -alien,  is  more  worthy 

Of  our  attachment  than  a  ttioosatid  kinsmen.  i 

{Exeunt ouEST^s  and  pylades. 

CHORUS. 

O    P   .E. 

I- 

Lost  is  the  bliss,  the  rank  supreme. 

The  valour,  Atreus'  son  displayed 
Thro'  Greece,  and  on  the  banks  of  Simois*  stream^ 
The  victor's  ;^itteriiig  troj^hieis^cirie  decayed  ^' 


1  • 


ORESTES.  101 

Of  that  ill-fated  house  the  woes  revive, 
As,  for  the  golden  ram,  when  fate. 
Steeling  their  breasts  with  ruthless  hate, 

Ordain'd  the  seed  of  Tantalus  to  strive ; 

Dire  was  the  feast  where  fbyal  infants  bled  ; 

A  ISeries  heiice  ensued  of  ftn^fous  deeds. 

To  slaughter  past  fresh  slaughter  still  succeeds, 
Ajid  their  forefathers'  guilt  rests  on  the(5)children8'  head. 

The  stroke  tho' justice  might  demand. 

In  thee  was  it  unjust  to  slay 
A  parent,  and  with  unrelenting  hand 
Thy  sword  high  waving  in  the  solar  ray. 
To  glory  in  the  blood  which  thou  hadst  spilt. 
^        In  thy  deliberate  crime  we  find 

Impiety  with  murder  join^. 
And  the  distraction- which  attends  on  guilt. 
ForTyndarus'  wretched  daughter  did  exclaim 
Thro*  fear  of  death ;  "  Unholy  is  the  deed 
'^  Thou  would'st  commit:  if  thus  thy  mother  bleed, 
"  Zeal  for  thy  Sire  will  brand  thee  with  perpetual  shame." 

(5)  An  objectioato  the  term  jwnnyoiv  A7p«^  having  been  started  by  the 
Scholiast,  who  says  nothing  terrible  had  happened  in  Menelaus'  house, 
and  considers  the  Poet  as  saying  of  the  two  Brothers,  what  is  applicable 
mdy  to  Agamenmon ;  Dr.  Mosgraye,  in  his  notes,  conjectures  that  we 
OH^ttoread  iuunt^  diviuis.  But,  inlike  manner  as  theToWaXiJtM,  in  this 
very  stanza  are  Atrens  and  Thyestes,  who  were  not  the  sons,  but  the  grands 
sons  of  Tantahis ;  I  cannot  entertain  the  smallest  doubt,  that  ''  the  two 
Atrides**  here  spoken  of  are  Orestes  and  Electra,  the  grandchildren,  and 
not  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus  the  sons  of  Atreus.  The  same  mode  of 
qpeaking  in  regard  to  far  more  remote  descendants  is  by  no  means  uncom*> 
mon  IP  tiie  Greek  language ;  and  the  reader  will  find  upon  consulting  He- 
rodotus, that  HpttxXft^,  which  is  the  title  to  one  of  the  Tragedies  of  £u- 
lipidei^  and  there  signifies  ^'  the  children  of  Hercules,**  continued  to  be 
applied  to  their  posterity  for  twenty-two  generations,  and  through  a 
JBCries  of  more  than  five  hundred  years.  Since  I  wrote  the  above,  it 
occurs  to  me,  that  kma  vw  fAmn  Alfnieuif  is  the  very  expression  used 
by  the  I|Aigeida  of  onr  .Aathor,  when  she  speaks  of  he^rself  and  her 
i^rother  Or«ste8>  fit  the  lull  iaf  th^ir  endeavouring  to  effect  tiidr  eflcQM» 
SromTauris. 


IM  ORESTES. 

Is  there  a  being  more  forlorn  on  earthy 
To  whom  are  tears  and  pity  due^. 
Rather  than  to  the  youth  who  drew 
His  ruthless  blade  'gainst  her  who  gave  him  birtb 
Since  this  exploit  hath  frenzy^  direful  pest^ 
Haunted  the  conscious  breast 
Of  Agamemnon's  son ;  for  from  the  shades 
Th'  Eumenides  hell's  aweful  maids 
To  sting  the  mnrderer  rise; 
Glaring  roll  his  haggard  eyes. 
Inhuman  wretch !  who  could  his  mother  view 
In  vain  for  pity  sue^ 
When  she  her  tissued  robe  did  tear. 
And  lay  her  throbbing  bosom  tare. 
Yet  aim  the  wound  with  unabated  ire. 
Determined  to  revenge  his  Sire* 

ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

ELECTRA. 
Ye  Damsels,  hath  the  miserable  Orestes, 
Overcome  by  that  distraction  which  the  Gods 
Inflict,  left  these  abodes  ? 

CHORUS. 

No  ;  he  is  gone 
Before  the  Argive  people,  to  be  tried 
At  their  tribunal ;  they  are  now  deciding 
The  question,  whether  ye  shall  live  or  die. 

ELECTRA. 
What  hath  he  done  ?  ah  me !  at  whose  persuasion. t 

CHORUS. 
At  that  of  Pylades.     But  lo  with  speed 
A  Messenger  approaches  to  unfold 
Your  Brother's  doom. 

MESSENGER,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

MESSENGER. 

O  thou  unhappy  danghter 
Of  Agamemnon,  our  illustrious  e*ii*f,      .  ^  - 


-*    «Ki        .      A 


'm 


ORESTES*  103 

Electra^  royal  vifgiii,  lend  an  ear 

To  th'  inaaspicions  message  which  I  bring* 

ELECTTRA* 

Alas!  we  are.imdoBe;  your  words  betray  you : 
For  it  appears  too  plainly  that  you  come 
With  evil  tidings, 

MESSBNOEIL 

By  a  public  Vote 
This  day  have  the  Pelasgians  doom'd  thy  Brother^ 
And  thee^  O  miserable  Maid,  to  die. 

ELECTRA.  ^ 

My  apprehensions  are,  alas!  AilfilPd; 
For  thro'  the  fear  of  mischiefs  yet  to  come 
Oft  have  I  shed  th'  involuntary  tear* 
But  what  debates,  what  speeches  to  the  people 
Of  ArgoSy  have  induced  them  to  pronounce 
Sentence  of  death  against  usf  say,  old  Man, 
Have  they  resolv*d  to  stone,  or  to  destroy 
Me  and  my  Brother  by  the  lifted  sword  ? 

MESSENGER.  ^ 

Hither  I  from  the  country  came,  and  enter'd 
The  gates^  solicitous  to  hear  the  doom 
Of  thee  and  of  Orestes :  for  thy  Sire 
I  ever  lov'd,  and  in  thy  house  was  nurtured. 
Poor  as  1  Jim,  yet  an  exalted  sense 
Of  gratitude  I  to.  my  friends  retain. 
The  citizens,  in  motion,   I  beheld. 
Repairing  to  their  stations  on  that  hill 
Where  *tis  recorded  that  the  people  first 
In  solemn  council  met,  when  Danaus  answered 
iBgyptus'  charge.    Observing  what  a  crowd 
Assembled ;  of  some  citizen  unknoji^n. 
What  new  event  hath  happen'd  in  the  irealm 
Of  Argos,  I  enquir'd,  if  from  our  foes 
Some  haughty  message  this  commotion  raised? 
He  gave  this  answer:  '*  See'st  thou  not  Orestes 
^  Draw  n^ar,  drd^fi'd.td  nin  the  race  of  death  ?' 


104  ORESTES. 

A  spectacle  (which  would  to  Heaven  these  €yc$  " 

.  Had  never  witnessed !)  I  behdd ;  thy  Brother  • 
By  Pylades  attended,  with  discsase 
Weak  and  unneiVd  ;  while  with  iraternal  love 
The  comrade  shar'd  th*  afflictioDi  of  his-  firiend. 
His  sickness  watch'd,  and  led  him  gently  o».  ' 
No  sooner  with  the  citizens  of  Argos 
Was  the  assembly  fill'd^  than' there  stood  up 
A  Herald  and  gave  notice ;  '*  Who  will  say 
"  Whether  Orestes,  who  his  Mother  slew, 
"  Shall  be  acquitted  or  condemp'd  ?"  Then  rose 
Talthybius  first,  the  comrade  of  thy  Sire  ■'■ 

When  Ilion  fell;  ambiguous  were  his  words. 
To  those  in  power  subservient,  he  extolFd 
Thy  Father ;  but  no  praises  on  thy  Brother 
Bestowing,  artfully  conceaFd  his  malice ; 
Such  precedent,  he  said,  might  'stablish  laws  -* 

Baleful  to  every  Parent ;  and  still  cast 
A  smiling  glance  upon  iEgisthus'  friends^ 
Such  igre  the  race  of  Heralds,  they  direct 
Their  steps  to  the  most  prosperous,  and  their  friend 
Is  he  who  in  exalted  station  placed 
Governs  the  city.    Diomede  the  (6)  King 

(6)  Though  Diomede  derived  his  title  of  King  from  iEtolia,  a  district 
of  Greece,  situated  at  a  considerable  distance  from  Argos,  he  never  waa 
in  actual  possesaon  of  that  throne,  but  appears  to  have  rended  chiefly 
at  Argos,  till  the  time  of  his  forming  ain  establishment  in  Italy,  ly  deai%' 
banishM  from  his  ovim  country  by  his  fiither  Oeneas,  who  was  then  seat^  < 
on  the  throne  of  ^tolia,  fled  to  Argos,  and  married  Deipyle,  one  of ' 
Adrastus*  daughters;  foUoviring  the  banners  of  his  father-in4aw  to  the 
siege  of  Thebes,  he  was  there  shun,  leavmg  his  son  Diomede,  who  was 
Bom  at  Argos,  and  was  then  an  infant,  under  the  protection  of  AdnoAiL 
When  Diomede  was  grown  up  to  years  of  maturity,  ApoUodonis  informs 
us,  that  he  went  from  Argos  to  ^tolia,  slew  the  sons  of  Agrius,  who 
had  depos'd  and  coiffined  Oeneus  his  aged  grandfather;  and  placed  Aiir 
draemon,  the  husband  of  Oeneus*  daughter,  on  the  throne:  he  then  re- 
turned to  Argos,  and  was  one  of  the  heroes- who  avenged  their  iathei^ 
deaths,  and  sacked  Thebes.  In  Homer*s  account  of  the  Grecian  fleet 
in  the  second  book  of  the  Iliad,  we  find  the  ^tolians  commanded  hy 
Thoas,  the  son  of  Andraemon,  whom  Dibm^dB  had  placed  on  thc'timme, 


V: 


ORBSTES.  105 

Replied,  fbrbiddidg  them  t'  imbrae  tbeit  bauds 
Eidier  in  thine  or  in  thy  brother's  blood : 
But  own'd,  that  by:  the  exile  of  you  both 
They  piously  vould  act.     His  speech  was  heard 
With  murmurs  of  applause,  and  mingled  blame. 
He  ceased,  and  tbete  arose  a  Inan  endued 
With  fluent  speech  and  boldness  unappalt'd,    • 
An  Argive,  who  in  Argos  was  not  born. 
But  'mongst  its  native  denizens  by  force 
Obtained  a  seat ;  in  tumult  he  relied. 
And  an  unletter'd  confidence,  ndr  wanted 
The  talent  of  persuasion  to  involve  them 
In  any  mischief.     For  whene'er  the  man, 
Who  joins  to  a  perverted  soul  the  gifts 
Of  eloquence,  beguiles  the  public  ear. 
He  to  thei  city  proves  a  grievous  curse : 
But  they  whobe  virtuous  counsels  never  swerve 
From  wisdom's^  dictates,  to  the  state  are  useful 
Hereafter,  tho'  not  instantly.    Ttie  ruler 
Of  penetration  should  look  well  to  this. 
For  both  th^  man  who  utters  and  applauds 
Such  speech,  is  equally  to  .blame.     He  said. 
Ye  should  be  ston'd,  Orestes  and  thyself. 
■t  ■  .,   .      ' 

and  Diomede  actiig  mder  the  auspices  of  AgamemnoD,  as  general  of  Hit 
troops  innushed  by  the  city  of  Argos,  subdivided  from  those  of  Mycene , 
v/iaidk  were  led  by  Agamemnon  fahnself.  Hie  dissohite  conduct  of 
^Bgiale,  Diomede's  wife^-  who  appears  to  ha^e  been  daughter  of  ^gia- 
leus,  AdrBstOB^sen,  was  so  notorious  during  the  absence  of  her  husban4 
at  the  siege  of  Troy,  that 

'       Nee  tibi  contingat  matrona  pudicior  iUa 
QuH  potuttTydeUs  erubuisse  nuhi 

is  one  of  the  imprecations  in  the  Ibis  of  Ovid;  and  Diomede's  resolution 
to  leave  Greece  is  ascribed  to  her  infidelities.  But  as  the  followers^ 
with  whose  aisoBtaBee  he  founded  a  colony  in  the  province  of  A|>uliay 
where  he  erected  a  city  called  Arpi,  according  to  VirgU,  consisted  of 
Aleves ;  Vidimus  o  eive^  Diomeden,  Argivaque  castra,  he  may  very 
reasonably  be  supposed  to  have  dveelt  at  Argos  during  the  space  which 
intervened  between  his  return  from  Troy  and  his  sailing  for  Italy,  and  to 
hanre  bean  G|iie  of  those  Argive  citizens  who  sat  in  Judgement  upon  Ores- 
tes: the  next  speaker  is  contrasted  vrith  him  as  no  native  of  Argos. 


lOO  ORECTES. 

This  language  he  by  Tyndarus  was  suborn'd 
To  hold,  that  he  might  take  your  lives  away* 
He  was  opposed  by  one  whose  outward  form 
Is  void  of  grace,  but  an  intrepid  warrioFj 
Who  seldom  from  the  city  or  the  bar 
Contracts  pollution,  to  his  own  affairs 
Attentive  (to  such  m^i  alone  the  land 
Its  safety  owes)  of  apprehension  quick. 
Home  to  the  purpose  ever  wont  to  speak, 
Fam'd  for  simplicity  and  blameless  manners; 
Orestes,  Agamemnon's  son,  he  said^ 
Deserv'd  a  crown,  because^  resolv'd  t'  avenge 
His  Sire,  he  slew  a  vile  and  impious  woman. 
Whose  conduct  future  heroes  might  prevent 
From  wielding  arms,  and  issuing  forth  to  battle 
Far  from  their  homes,  if  th6se  they  leave  behind 
Seduce  their  wives,  and  make  the  nuptial  couch 
A  scene  of  infamy.    With  due  applause 
These  sentiments  each  virtuous  ear  received* 
Here  ended  the  debate :  but  now  advanced 
Thy  brother,  and  addressed  them  in  these  words ; 
'^  O  ye  possessors  of  the  antient  realm 
"  Of  Inachus,  erst  call'd  Pelasgians,  next 
"  From  Danaus  nam'd,  I  to  avenge  your  wrongs 
'*  As  well  as  those  of  my  great  father,  slew 
•'  My  mother ;  for  if  women  are  allow'd 
*'  To  kill  their  lords,  no  longer  can  ye  scape 
"  From  death ;  or,  if  ye  scape,  ye  to  your  wives 
''  Must  yield  a  slavish  deference,  and  subvert 
•'  Those  usages  which  decency  enjoins. 
'*  She  who  betray'd  my  father's  bed,  now  lies 
''  A  breathless  corse :  but  sentence  me  to  bleed, 
^^  And  ye  the  law  'gainst  murder  will  annull; 
^  No  man  can  breathe  in  safety,  for  no  longer 
*'  Will  it  be  rare  to  find  a  Clytemnestra,."  (7) 

(f)  Mane  OytenuMestnan  noUns  oon  vicos  babeMu 

JvT.  Sftt  «•  V.  656. 


■ » *-, 


ORESTES.  107 

Yet  he  the  people  could  not  move^  tho' just 
His  reasoning  seemed ;  for  on  the  crowd  prevaii'd 
That  wicked  man  who  counseled  them  to  slay 
Thy  broth'er  and  thee  too.    Scarce  could  Orestes 
Persuade  them  not  to  stone  you:   he  hath  made 
A  promise^  that  you  both  by  your  own  hands 
Will  on  this  day  your  lives  together  end. 
From  tlie  assembly  Pylades  with  tears 
Conducts  him^  followed  by  his  weeping  friends^ 
Who  pity  him,  and  now  to  tKee  he  comes 
With  ghastly  countenance :  prepare  the  sword, 
Or  twine  the  gliding  noose>  for  thou  must  view 
The  sun  no  longer ;  thy  illustrious  birth 
Hath  been  of  no  avails  nor  Pythian  Phoebus, 
Who  seated  on  his  holy  tripod  gave 
That  dire  response,  for  to  the  God  thou  ow'st 
Thy  ruin. 

CHORUS. 
Hapless  virgin,  on  the  ground. 
How  do  you  fix  those  eyes,  which  with  a  veil 
Are  covered,  and  in  mournful  sile!ice  stand. 
As  if  your  anguish  would  ere  long  burst  forth 
Into  unbidden  groans  and  bitter  plaints. 

ELECTRA. 

ODE. 
I. 

To  thee,  Pelasgia,  first  my  plaints  I  breathe. 

Tear  my  pale  cheeks,  and  smite  my  drooping  head. 

In  youth's  gay  morn  reluctant  victim  led 

To  the  fair  (8)  Empress  of  the  realms  beneath. 

Thou  city  which  the  Cyclops  did  adorn 

Howl  loudly,  and  bewail  with  (JJ)  tresses  shorn, 

'(d^  PfOferpine. 
(9'  Ttais  also  Greg.  Nazianzen,  in  some  verses  on  the  death  of  Martin 

llflva  ii  loumn  tt,  nm  it/pM  Tluffffru  yams 

Mvratori  Anecdota  Graeca.  p.  8. 


^::::-'  :".   ..u^i^ 


lOS  ORESTES. 

The  house  of  AtreUB*  miserable  fet^ 
To  us  its  last  poor  relics  doom'd  io  riew 
The  sun  no  more,  is  tenfold  pity  du^, 
Because  our  Sire  in  arms  erst  rul'd'  eiacb  Grecian  state. 

Now  lost,  for  (ever  lost,  is  Pelops'  race. 
For  wide  domains  and  prosperous  fortunes  known. 
But,  by  the  envy  of  the  gods  overthrown, 
Sentenc'd  to  bleed,  and  covered  with  disgrace. 
Ye  tribes  of  mortals,  destined  from  ybur  birth 
To  weep  and  toil  while  ye  remain  on  earth. 
See  Fate  with  unexpected  strides  advance, 
To  sufferings  past,  fresh  sofferfngs  still  succeed; 
Since  first  his  reign  began  hath  Tiin^  decreed 
That  man's  unstable  life  shall  be  the  sport  of  chance. 

III. 
O  that  to  yonder  rock  I  could  ascend. 
Which  hangs  supported .  by  a  golden  chaiu 

Rivetted  on  Olympus'  plain. 
Still  whirling  round,  huge  (10)  oiass  decreed  t'impeiid 

Midway  'twixt  Heaven  and  earthy 
That  I  with  Tantalus,  from  whom. my  birth, 

My  inauspicious  birth,  I  trace, 

In  sympathetic  plaints  may  wail. 

And  dwell  on  the  affecting  tale 

Of  generations  doom'd  to  view 

Incessant  woes  :  With  thundering  pace 

Since  the  mares  of  Pelojw  flew, 

XlO)  The  Scholiast,  ^d  Dr.  Mnsgrave  in  his  notes  on  this  passage,  in- 
terpret /SwXov  as  meaning  "  the  sasLf  and  Euripides  cited  by  the  sehofiasts 
in  ApoUonius  Rhodius,  1.  iv.  498,  is  referred  to  by  Henry  Stephens 
in  his  Greek  Thesaurus  as  calling  the  sun  -^^j/iKntet  fiw^at;  but  '^^jgvareutn  is 
here  an  epithet  to  tihjo-sn,  and  by  the  word  /SwXvr  which  Dr.  Miisgrave*s 
and  a  great  variety  of  other  Latin  versions  render  glebam,  Ele^^tra  ap* 
pears  to  me  to  be  still  speaking  of  a  rock,  or  large  mass  of  earth  sofr* 
pended  in  the  midway  air  over  the  head  of  Tantahus,  which  is  conform- 
able  to  th^  accou9t  she  has  already  given  of  her  ancestor's  ^pifi^frings  at 
the  beginning  of  this  tragedy. 


ORESTES.  109 

While  in  his  chariot  Myrtilus  he  bore 
To  the  steep  beach  of  the  Eubaean  shore, 
Him  from  Gerastia  did  the  victor  throw 

Ipto  the  foaming  tide  below: 

Hence  that  horrid  curse  we  date 
Arising  firom  the  son  of  Maia's  hate. 

Who  cau3*d  the  ram  with  golden  fleece 

Dire  portent,   amid  th'  increase 
Of  Atreus'  flocks  to  mingle,  when  such  fray 

Ensued  as  caus'd  the  sun  to  steer 

Retrogade  a  new  career 
From  th'.Hesperian  regions  to  the  east, 

And  the  seven  Pleiades  by  Jove 
Were  into  distant  orbits  forc'd  away; 

Nor  from  that  hour  hath  slaughter  ceas'd. 
In  consequence  of  the  detested  feast 

Known  by  Thyestes'  name : 
The  Cretan  .£rope's  lascivious  bed. 

By  m&ptials  fraught  with  equal  shame 

Hath  been  succeeded,  and  at  length 

Fate  in  her  progress  gathering  strength. 
Still  too^  house  an  unrelenting  foe. 

Hath  ponr'd  destruction,  on  my  head. 

And  laid  my  noble  father  low. 

CHORUS. 

Behpid  your  hapless  brother,  doom'd  to  die. 
Moves  slowly  on,  and  Pylades  most  faithful 
Of  all  mankind,  e'en  he  whose  firm  attachment 
Is  equal  tp  fraternal  love,,  supports 
Orestes  and  directs  bis  languid  steps. 

ORESTES,  PYLADES,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

ELECTRA. 

Alas,  my  Brother,  thee  with  groans  I  view 
Placed  on  the  verge  of  an  untimely  grave. 
Just  ere  they  kindle  thy  funereal  pjrre. 
To  gratify  the  powers  of  hell  beneath* 


^ii 


i-'i 


no  ORESTES. 

Ah  me,  once  more !  how  have  my  senses  wander'd. 
While  with  these  eyes  I  take  a  iast  fond  look ! 

ORESTES. 

Will  you  not  yield  in  silence  to  what  Heaven 
Ordains,  and  lay  aside  those  female  plaints  ? 
What  tho*  our  doom  be  piteous,  you  are  bound 
The  pressure  of  misfortunes  to  endure. 

ELECTRA. 

Yet  how  can  I  be  mute  f  We  are  allow'd  ' 

To  view  Hyperion's  radiant  beams  no  more* 

ORESTES. 

Ah  !  do  not  kill  me  ;  wretched  I  am  slain 
Enough  already  by  th*  uphfted  bands 
Of  Argos  :  but  on  these  our  present,  woes 
No  longer  dwell. 

ELECTRA. 
O  miserable  Orestes, 
Torn  from  the  joys  of  youth  by  ruthless  fate,  * 

Just  at  the  time  thou  should'st  begin  to  live. 
Thy  life's  short  day  is  closing. 

ORESTES.     * 

By  the  Gods, 
Unman  me  not,  nor  force  my  tears  to  stream' 
By  wakening  the  remembrance  of  our  griefs. 

ELECTRA. 

We  both  must  die ;  nor  can  those  groans  be  stifled. 
For  all  mankind  regret  the  loss  of  life. 

ORESTES. 

This  Is  the  day  ordain'd ;  we  must  entwine 
The  gliding  noose,  or  wield  the  sharpen'd  sword. 

ELECTRA. 

Now  slay  me,  O  my  Brother,  lest  some  Argive 
Should  take  my  life  away,  and  bring  disgrace 
On  Agamemnon's  progeny. 

ORESTES. 

Distain'd 
Enough  already  with  maternal  gore, 


ORESTES.  1 1 1 

I  will  not  be  my  sister's  murderer :  die 
By  youif  own  hand  in  any  mode  you  list 

ELECTRA. 

It  shall  be  so ;  nor  will  thy  faithiul  sword 
Desert  me:  but  I  wish  to  throw  my  arms 
Around  thy  neck. 

ORESTES. 

Such  unsubstantial  pleasure 
Enjoy,  if  an  embrace  afford  delight 
To -those  whose  steps  are  hastening  to  the  grave. 

ELECTRA. 

O  most  belov'd !  O  name  for  ever  dear ! 
O  thou  whose  soul  is  with  thy  sister's  soul 
Inseparably  united! 

ORESTES. 
I  shall  catch 
The  soft  contagion^  eager  to  return 
With  these  fond  arms  th'  embraces  you  bestow. 
For  what  is  there  which  can  excite  a  blush 
In  me  who  am  so  wretched?  O  my  sister. 
Whom  to  this  throbbmg  breast  e'en  now  I  clasp; 
Instead  of  children,  and  the  bridal  couch^ 
The  only  comfort  that  we  wretches  have. 
Is  in  this  Conference  to  express  our  grief. 

ELECTRA. 

If  this  may  be  permitted,  by  one  sword 
Transpierc'd,  ah,  how  shall  we  together  fall, 
Hi)W  shall  one  tomb  receive  the  fragrant  chest 
Of  cedar  with  our  mingled  ashes  fraught? 

* 

ORESTES. 

This  were  indeed  most  grateful :  but  you  see 
How  destitute  we  are  of  friends  to  lay  us 
In  the  same  sepulchre. 

ELECTRA. 

Did  Menelaus, 
That  yOe -betrayer  of  thy  Sire,  say  nought 


112  ORESTES. 

In  thy  behalf^  nor  shew  an  anxious  zeal 
To  save  our  lives  i 

ORESTES. 

He  would  not  eiren  shew 
His  face^  but  fixing  his  insatiate  hopes 
Upon  the  sceptre,  fear'd  to  save  his  friends. 
But  be  it  ours  to  act  a  generous  part^ 
And  die  as  Agamemnon'ii  children  ought* 
I  to  ungrateful  Argos  will  display 
My  courage,  piercing  with  my  sword  my  breast; 
You  it  behoves  to  imitate  my  darings. 
As  a  spectator  ofer  the  bloody  deed^ 
O  Pylades,  do  thou  preside,  adorn 
Our  breathless  corses,  in  my  father's  tomb 
Together  bury  us ;  and  now  farewell. 
For  thou  perceiv'st  I  to  this  great  emprise 
Am  hastening. 

PYLADE& 

H,4>I(| :  I  now  for  the  first  time 
Have  a  just  causa  to  blame  you,  if  you  think 
That  I  can  be  so  mean  as  to  survive  you. 

ORESTE& 
But  of  what  service  is  thy  dying  with  me? 

FYLADES. 

Why  do  you  ask  this.questjon  ?  what  can  life 
Avail  without  your  friendship  I 

ORESTES. 

Thou  like  me 
Thy  mother  ne'er  did'st  slay. 

PYIADES. 

But  I  with  you 
Cpnspir'd,  and  therefore  oia^bt  with  you  to  suffer. 

ORJBSTES. 

Yield  thyself  to  the  mercy  of  thy  Sire, 
Nor  die  with  me :  for  thou  hast  yet  a  country ; 
But  I,  alas !  have  none ;  thy  father's  house 
Expects  thee,  and  its  coffb-s  jHl'd  with  gold. 


i 


ORESTES.  1  IS 

This  miserable  virgin  thou  hast  lost^ 

Whom  I  to  thee  my  honoured  friend  engag'd; 

But  thou  another  consort  mayst  obtain 

To  bear  a  noble  issue  :  for  here  ends 

Th' affinity,  betwixt  us.     But,  Oname 

For  ever  dear,  thoq  best  of  friends,  farewell : 

Be  transports  thine  which  I  can  never  taste  ; 

For  we  of  all  enjoyments  are  bereft 

By  an  untimely  death. 

PYIADES. 

You  much  mistake 
My  purpose.    Never  may  the  fruitful  earth. 
Or  bright  etherial  realm,  receive  my  blood. 
If  I  prove  treacherous,  and  desert  my  friend 
To  purchase  my  own  safety :  for  with  you 
I  in  the  murder  of  your  mother  shar'd. 
This  will  not  I  disown :  and  since  my  counsels 
^icourag'd  you  to  execute  the  deed 
^  For  which  you  suffer,  I  am  bound  to  die 
With  you  and  with  your  sister :  for  I  look 
Upon  that  Virgin  my  afhanc'd  Bride 
As  tho*  she  were  my  Consort.    What  excuse 
Could  I  allege,  should  I  again  behold 
The  shore  where  Delphi's  holy  turrets  rise 
That  far-fam'd  citadel  of  Pbocis'  realm. 
If  I,  who  while  you  prospered,  was  your  friend. 
Now  you  are  wretched,  am  your  friend  no  longer  i 
Such  meanness  I  detest ;  our  thoughts  are  iix'd 
On  the  same  object ;  but  since  die  we  must. 
Let  us  consult  together  how  t'  involve 
The  perjur'd  Menelaus  in  our  woes. 

My  dearest  friend,  Wkir pleasure  would  I  die 
Could  I  see  this. 

PYLADES. 
Obey  my  counsel  now. 
And  for  a  while  defer  the  fatal  stroke^ 

TOt..  U  I' 


U4  ORE^ES^ 

I  would  defer.  .:•.'•=  :.>..'.:..  ?■-..••  ■-  v-.n*  --■;  •;   :.;  ;•..••■ 


•  I 


My  ixiend,^  obeerve  strict ^il^ce;   '^'      '  ■ 


For  I  in  women  plstce  botlittle  trust*-  ^'^J  •  --J-'   ^  - 

'-OORESTES*'  ^'    ■     ■''***  ''•  *  . 
Fear  nought  From  these :- oar  friends  iik>i:^  are  here' 

PYLADES.  ■      ^    ' 

His  Helen  will  we  slay>  .a  bitter  sourqe 
Of  grief  to  Menel^u3.  »  = 

ORESTES. 

;  Bow  f  Fm  ready,  •   'j-'''     *' 

If  it  be  feasible.  .,  :   •  t   .    '    * 

.-.-PYLADES;  ■'•:'•' 

;Pur  swords  may  pierce      —  ■  •  / 

Her  bosom;  for  she  lurkft within  your  house.  '   •         '  ' 

ORESTSiS  '     • 

Yea,  and  on  all , my  lorfeit  treasures  stamps     = 
Her  signet.  .  .  :  i  .         .   :  ' 

PYLADES*.  .  J'.:    '•■  .'       •    ■■•<  '.  i 

But  .o*er  the$e  abodes  no  longer    ■  ;      :  ♦ 
Shall  she  preside,  for  Pluto's  bridal  couc|\      .  ,       :       ' 
Awaits  her.  •:  ,  \ 

OIUSSTE&---  .      ... 
How  i  for  by  Q^barian  slaves :: 
She  is  accompanied.        /.         >       ■ 

PYLADES.'  -  -     .    -  '"< 

Efy  whom;?  I  fear ,    < 
No  Phrygian.  ,  .;  j   -    .;    :  : 

ORESTES;  ,     .'.    '     -    :':  .,  »-•.  ■'•-•* 
From  their  childhood  traiia'd  to  hold 
The  mirror,  or  in  fragrant  ointmemis.Dkiird. 

PYLADES.  -^     -  y.     •     .:■.  * 

Fraught  with  extraneous  luxuries  from  Troy 
Is  she  come  hither  then  ? 


* 


•       *  • 


OuJrOiffeiSh  roofs     ■   = 
Seem  low  to  her  ambition.     '^ 

PYIADfe. 

Tbe  whole  race 
Of  slaves^  opposed  to  free-born  might,  are  nothing. 

OREStiBS. 

<!!ould  I  accomplish  such  a  great  emprise 
As  this,  I  wotild^not  scruple  twice  to  die. 

PYLADES;  .... 

Nor  I  to  aid  thee.  ^       . 

ORE8t*ES. 

'        O  point  out  tfae'rbad. 
And  let  thy  afctiotis  justifj^  thte  words  ^ 
Which  thou  hast  uttered;'     • 

FYtADJES. 

We  the  doors  will  enter 
Like  men  colddemnM  to  bleed.  - 

'"'    '  ORESTES. 

Thus  far  thy  meaning 
I  trace,' tho*  ignorant  of  what's  to  follbw. 

PYLADES. 

Our  sufferings  in  her  presence  we  Will  mbum. 

ORESTES. 

That  she,  altho'  hei*  heart  rejoice,  may  weep  *         '^ 

PYLADES. 

While  we  shall  be  engag'd  in  clBwrying  on 
The  same  deception. 

ORESTES. "         ' 
How  shall  we  then  fight 
This  battle?  '  "' 

PYLADES.  ' 

We  Vril  carry  swbfds  conceafd 
Under  our  garments.  .     '      '    ;  ' 

.y  ORESTES.  '  . 

•       Bat  what  slaughter  ifirst 
Must  there  be  ol&de'tiinong  heribeaiM 

le 


.,  .».     r»  .  V 


1 16  ORESTES. 

PVIAOES. 

Them  we  in  different  cbambers  will  seeure. 

ORESTES. 

And  kill  the  first  who  speaks. 

VYIADE3. 

We  from  events 
Shall  then  learn  how  to  act. 

ORESTES. 

Helen  must  bleed ; 
I  understand  the  sign* 

PYLADES. 

Full  well  you  know 
My  project;  but  now  bear  on  what  just  motives 
I  found  these  counsels.     Had  we  drawn  the  sword 
Against  a  virtuous  matron,  such  a  deed 
As  this  were  a  dishonourable  murder  : 
But  she  will  make  atonement  to  all  Greece, 
To  them  whose  fathers,  them  whose  valiant  sons 
She  hath  destroy'd,  and  to  the  blooming  Nymphs, 
Reft  of  their  Husbands,  in  the  bridal  hour 
Whom  she  made  widows ;  shouts  shall  pierce  the  air> 
And  kindled  flames  on  every  altar  blaze. 
While  they  with  one  assent  invoke  the  Gods 
To  shower  down  plenteous  blessings  on  our  heads, 
for  having  slain  this  execrable  Woman. 
After  her  death,  no  more  shall  you  be  styl'd 
"  The  murderer  of  your  Mother ;"  but  that  term 
Of  foul  reproach  for  ever  laid  aside, 
Obtain  this  better  title ;  ^'  He  who  smote 
''  Perfidious  Helen,  the  detested  cause 
**  OF  many  murders."     Ill  doth  Menelaus 
Deserve  to  prosper,  while  your  father,  yon, 
Your  sister,  and  your  mother  bleed ;  (I  wave 
A  theme  which  'twere  indecent  to  discuss,) 
And  govern  your  hereditary  realm. 
Since  he  regained  his  consort  by  the  aid 
Of  Agamemnon's  spear :  perdition  seize  me 


OREStteS.  117 

If  I  Against  her  lift  not  the  vengeful  sword : 
Should  we  be  frastrated  in  oar  design 
Of  slaying  Helen  ;  let  ns  fire  this  house 
4nd  perish  :  for  we  will  not  lose  the  whole 
Of  our  high  aims^  but  purchase  lasting  fame. 
Whether  we  nobly  die^  or  live  with  glory. 

CHORUS. 

Such  Tyndaru^  Daughter^  who  such  foul  reproach 
Hath  cast  on  her  whole  sex,  deserves  the  hate 
Of  every  woman. 

0]R£STE8. 
There  is  nought  on  earth 
More  precious  than  the  friend  who  may  be  trusted, 
Nor  gold,  nor  empire  ;  multitudes  coropar'd 
'  With  such  a  friend  are  worthless :  thou  didst  first 
Devise  ^gisthus'  bane,  and  stand  beside  me 
tn  all  my  dangers :  now,  on  those  I  hate 
An  am[]tle  Vengeance  thiou  again  bestow'st. 
Scorning  to  leave  me  in  this  fatal  hour. 
Yet  will  I  cease  thy  merits  to  extol. 
For  most  oflensive  is  immoderate  praise. 
But  I,  who  must  inevitably  bleed. 
Some  punishment  would  on  my  foes  inflict. 
Then  shall  I  die  content;  I  would  requite 
The  villains  who  hetray'd  me,  with  destruction. 
And  those  who  made  me  wretched,  cause  to  groan. 
For  I  am  Agamemnon's  son ;  my  Sire 
Was  chosen  by  the  public  voice  to  rule 
O'er  Greece,  no  tyrant  was  the  generous  Chief, 
Although  by  the  immortal  Gods  endued 
With  more  than  human  might;  nor  will  I  shame 
His  memory  by  expiring  like  a  slave, 
But  yield  up  my  last  breath  with  free*born  spirit, 
On  Menelaus  wreaking  just  revenge. 
What  happiness  were  ours  could  we  attain. 
This  one  great  object,  an  escape  from  death. 
By  some  eyeot  foe  which  1  hardly  dare 


118  OR|SSTES. 

To  hope ;  and  sl^y,  not  pecUh ;  such  my  prayer. 
The  wish  at  least  which  I  have  form'd  is  sweet. 
And  I^  with  words  ^oon  lost  in  air^  delighfe 
My  soul  on  easy  tenns* 

ELECTRA. 

Metfainks>  Q  Broth^|>    , 
I  an  expedient  have  devis'd,  to  save 
T]xy  IxHe,  with  that  of  Pylades,  apdmin^       .  \ 

OBESTE8. 

The  counsels  you  have  utter'd,  by  some  God  .. 
Aie  dictated  ;  but  tell  iac  where  to  meet 
With  such  resource  :  for  well  I  know  your  soul 
Is  most  sagacious.  .  *   -  • 

IXECTBA. 

■      -H  * 

Now  give  ear,  O  Brother, 
And  to  my  wprds,  O  Pylades,  attend. 

OjetESTES. 

Speak:  for  some  picture  doth  result  from  talking 
Of  bliss  ideal. 

ELECTEA. 

Know'st  thou  Helen's  Daughter  ? 
I  ask  a  question  thou  with  ease  capst  solve. 

ORE8TE& 

Hermione,  I  know,  who  by  my  mother  .•  . 
Was  nurtured. 

ELECTRA.  .■'.,;. 

HencCto  Cly tern uestra's  tomb'    .     i 
She  went.  /  : 

ORESTES.  .-   ,  :    C- 

With  what  design  F  is  this.a  ground  \ 

Foranyhope?  :  ;, 

ELECTRA.  .  •   /■        ...i;  ;..       irT 

Over  the  grave  U>pow        .  .    >  ■  lu  \ 
Libations  in  her  mother^s  8tea4*  i' 

■    ORESTES.     •  •     '.V" 

.WJij;8pe»k» -•/:■'.;  .:i."; 

Of  this,  as  tho'  it  might  conduce ;l0,-MKiilt>i'ii  juios  '''d 


k 


1< 


■> 

r  . 


-'i  'v 


Her  for  an- hostage?  sQi^e  when  she  returns. 

•      ORESTES.  '  .  •  -  ;. 

How  can  thifi  in^asure  temedy  the  ills  i 
Of  us  three  friends  ?  ' :  •  l    . 

ELECVRA.' '  ..  -J 

"^      Wlien' Helen  is  no  more,  T 

Should  Menelaai9'Btriv<e  to ptmish  tbee^   .-.  ^A\ 

Or  Pylades,  orttte>  (for  we  Are  all  :!  .    :  •  \ 

Made  one  by  friendship)  tell  ttim  thou  wilt  slay 
Hermio(6^- 'IMid' it^' theWirgiB'9  ^ctr  • 
Point  thy  dtaiwn  sW:Olrdv'    Bii^$  ifheap9Jte  ^h}r  I'lfi^,' 
Requesting  that  his  daughter 4liay  not  die. 
When  Helen  welcerrng-in  berbiood  he  views. 
Surrender  up  the  damiEfelto  heriSire;  ..  .' 

But,  if  unable  to  restrain  bis  passion, 
He  seeks  to  kill  thee,  in  the  (li)i  virgin's  brenst 
Thy  weapon  plunge;  but  faie,  ilt  tbe  first  onset 
Tho' violent,  ere  longy  I  deein>  will  calm ;     .  > 

For  he  is  equally  devpid  of 'firifanes^  "t 

And  enterprising  coiimg^  :  on*  this  gr6uhd/.  ..  .   ' 

I  btfiid^DXiii?  safety;  'H^eve  oondhdes  my  spleech*  y     ./ 

-  ■'  ^;^ftEW^.'-        '■'        ■■'•■  ■•' 

O  you,  whd  with  a  tiiranlj^Wcml  jpbsJeks 
A  form  adorn'd  by  eyetf-kinkVe^kt^,      .....    :.   - 1 
How  much  til<yrfe -^ortby  aVe  yovt  to^ektehd  '  '  * 

Your  lifeVshofrt  s^atr/ thkn  pi^irifli  thtis  untttiiely:  •■  •  i 
Thee  fate  hath  do6m%  6  Vp^Qei,  to  lose 
A  Bride  witfr  Whbiil  thbtt' inighftt  H^fe  pass'd  thy  dag* 
In  blissful  unibti.'      '  ''    '  •  '  '  *    '  • '    '^' » 

(ll)RoberteUas,m'fab€»Mii«i^oi]f  AilstbU  Po«tic^  AbtMbg^iye 
^  dastmction  made  in  one  of  th^;  Ortek  fugnments  prefixed  to  this  Tragedy, 
that  it  is  Mifta^sf^f  defective  in.point  of  moadity4,aU  the  charactejrs •being 
bad  ones  eiLcept  PyIades,ob6er?es  that  in  his  ppin^on  Pyuides  is  also  a,yi- 
cious  cfaara<fteV,  fbr  ddbisiti^  tfakibdib'k^riii^'  andF(ei^n'i£hoii1df  iSejpki 
to  death,  p.  171,  Flor,  ap.  Torrent.  1548  :  foiJtlioagh^  idots  AAt  mtc 
the  proposal  he  evidently  a8Mi|M^tf|  /t^  ^  ^; 


120  ORESTES. 

Graot  it,  O  yt  Gods! 
And  with  auspicious  hymeneal  pomp 
Th'  exulting  Phocian  city  may  she  reach* 

ORESTES. 

But  when  will  fair  Hermione  return 
To  these  abodes  i  For  you  in  all  beside 
Have  wisely,  spoken,  if  we  here  succeed, 
And  seize  this  child  of  an  accursed  Sire. 

ELECTRA. 

She  must  be  near  the  palace,  from  the  length    .. 
Of  time,  I  judge,  since  she  departed  hence. 

ORESTES. 

Tis  well :  before  yon  massive  portals  take 
Your  station,  O  my  Sister,  and  there  wait 
Th*  arrival  of  the  Virgin  :  but  observe 
If,  ere  we  have  slain  Helen,  to  this  house 
Some  comrade,  or  the  Brother  of  my  Sire, 
Colne  to  prevent  us ;  and  to  us  within 
Give  the  alarm  by  thundering  at  the  gate. 
Or  calhng  with  loud  voice.    But  let  us,  enter, 
Arm'd  with  drawn  swords,  prepared  for  desperate  conflict^ 
O  Pylades,  for  thou  with  me  partak^st 
All  dangers.  — ^  O  my  Father,  whose  abode 
Is  in  the  caverns  of  eternal  night. 
Thy  son  Orestes  calls  thee,  come  and  succour 
Those  who  thy  aid  implore :  for  in  thy  cause. 
Wretch  that  I  am,  unjustly  I  endure 
These  woes,  and  by  tby  Brother  am  betray'd, 
Tho*  what  I  did,  by  justice  was  ^njoin'd  : 
His  Wife  am  I  resolVd  to  seize  and  slay ; 
Do  thou  assist  us  in  our  bold  emprise, 

ELECTRA. 

Come  then,  my  Shre,  if  in  the  realms  beneath 
Thou  hear  thy  children's  call,  who  for  thy  sake 
Are  doom'd  to  bleed. 

PYLADES: 

Illustrious  A^amemnqi^^ 


ORESTES.  121 

Thou  kinsman  of  my  Father^  to  my  prayen 
O  listen  and  arise  to  save  thy  children. 

ORESTES. 

I  smote  my  mother. 

PYLADES. 

I  the:  falchion  drew. 

ELECTRA. 

But  I  encourag'd^  I  remov'd  thy  fear.  < 

ORESTES. 

Thy  murder,  O  my  Father^  I  aveng'd. 

ELECTRA. 

Nor  yet  by  me  wert  thou  betray'd. 

PYLADES. 

Then  hear 
These  plaints^  and  save  thy  children. 

Orestes. 

Streaming  tears 
To  thee  for  my  libations  I  present. 

ELECTRA. 
These  lamentations  I^ 

PYLADES. 

Cease;  letus  ronse 
To  action  :  for  he  hears  us,  if  prayers  enter 
Those  subterraneous  regions.    -But  do  thou, 
O  Jove,  our  great  Progenitor,  thou  God 
Of  Justice,  grant  success  in  this  emprise 
To  Him  and  Me,  and  Her:  for  to  three  friends 
Join'd  in  one  conflict,  the  same  fate  is  due. 
To  live  together,  or  together  die. 

{Exeunt  orestbs  hii^  pyladbs. 

*  ■ 

ELECTRA. 

Dear  virgins  of  Mycene,  who  possess 
The  most  distinguished  station  in  the  realm 
Of  fam'd  Pelasgian  ArgOB**^  .       ^ 

V      CHORUS. 

What  strange  word:^^ 
O  Princess,  dostthoututer?    Fo;r  tothee 


i«C  ORESTES. 


Still  in  thistfity  is  such  honour  paid. 

ELECTRA. 

Some  in  this  avenue  your  stations  take ; 
And  others  at  a  different  path,  to  guard 
The  palace. 

CHORUS; 
Wherefore  gW^t  |bou  this  command  i 
Inform  us,  dearest  maid.  ..      .  .    fl 

ELECTRA; 

I  with  dismay  •::    -  jT 

Am  seiz'd,  lest  some  one  standing  near  the  gate. 
While  they  are  slaying  Helen,  should  devise  '       .-  -1 
'Gainst  us  fresh  mischiefs.    . 

SEMICHORUS  1. 

Let  us  go  with  speed ;  ;    >   >  i : 
I  will  observe  this  road  which  Phcebus  gilds 
With  orient  beams. 

SEMIGHORtS  II.  .  '. 

I  that  vhich  fronts  the  west. 

ELECTRA.  -sir 

Obliquely  cast  swift  glances,  turn  your  eyes 
Now.  here,  now  there,  and  every  moment  look 
A  different  way.  :'.:  .7 

CHORUS.  ■     •.  ■  -      in 

Thy  mandates  we  observe.  \,  O 

ELECTRA.  ■'■    \(^ 

Now  roll  around,  those  piercing  orbs  of  sight,  •       oT 
And  part  the  tresses  which  their  lids  o'erhang.  ^   >  T* 

SEMIOiORUSL  iT 

#But  lo,  advancing  o-er  the  beaten  path. 
What  hind  to  these  abodes  directs  bis  way  ? 

ELECTRA.  .  :.     ?♦..'' 

We  are  undone,  my  friends,  if  to  our  ioes 
He  ^e  two  lions  instantly  point  out   ' 
Who  in  the  palace  lurk  with  falchions  armM. 

..:.  SEMICHORUS  IL 

Dismiss  thytfirrors:  vacant  is.  theipatfe:'    ''.••'•  I'l 


Which  by  some  hostHci  straiig^rj  O  i^iy  frieQclj, 
Thou  dost  think  occuined.  •  • 

ELECTRA. 

But  4oth  your  station 
Remain  secure  i  O  publish  the  glad  tidiqga 
Before  that  front  of  Argof '  regal  dome. 
If  yet  thespacci  be  void.  . 

....     !•,-■ -.S^miCDQHiUS  II.-  .  -V-'- 

,^.:.  t  .;  AUihfregoj^s^rigbt: 
But  look  VOji^^ifqitfbl^  ^,m  thfere CQHieB 
None  of  the  rac^  pfrPftMpQ.;.;  - 

•:;•.:..  ..;:•  :io.:i.:j-Oonpepott*  - 
Concur;  nor  in  this  quarter  are  there  fpwid 
Any  tumultuous  citizens. 

i  %     EPLECTRA; 

ir  My  voice  ,  .     , 

Now  will  T  raise^  and  thro'  the  portals  s^nd  — ^ 
Why  thus  delay,  O  ye  w)iO!.ar/e  within 
The  pajLap^j  while  aJl's  quiet^  to  imbrue 
Your  falchions  in,  th^  yictii|i'a  gore  N-*  They  hear  not* 
Ah,  wretched  me  i  /bath  then  her  beauty  blant^     -    • 
The  edge  of  theii:  l^een  ^wprdsf  Iq  nuiil  firray'd^   . 
Perhaps  some  Argiye.  with  impet^^s  step  ,  « 

Comes  to  jb^r ^epcuie* .  Be  py>re  w^tcbiiil  now;  >/.  • 
You  must.m^jiit  4m^tiye,i  .bvt  look  ^omd  r  . .  - 1 
Oa^his  side  and :W  ds^^ -->•      ^    :i  j  •>  ^ 

.  >cmRus.-:..'  .  :  ...} ./. 

We  change  our  posture^ 
And  wat^ : Ac.  vnvpiis  pfitbs  pn  every  jiilletij  I  f 

PeJiu^n.  Argcs^  J[  ami)B8e<y  stainl  • ,    , ..  .;  .  ,  ■  ^ 

Heard  ye  ?  They  execute  witb.blppdy  l^and^^..  ;,  •;.[ 
Their  purpose.    Tbesejr  I  gViQfS  f^^^  Helen 's  shrieks. 

Fail  not,  :Q  tlimfteraaA jnigii^  9f ;Mfc;.;  -  /.    J:  .1 


ie4 


ORESTES. 


To  stccour  mj  adventurous  friends f  '^ 

HELEN  (wiML) 

I  die, 

0  Menelaas !  thou  art  near  at  hand. 
Yet  com^st  not  to  my  aid. 

ELEGTRA. 

Kill,  smite,  destroy; 
Wielding  your  falchions  with  unwearied  arm 
Against  the  dame  who  left  her  aged  Sire, 
Who  left  her  royal  husband,  and  hath  cans'd 
Unnurobery  Greeks  in  battle  to  expire 
Beside  tlie  stream,  where  tears  on  tears  were  shed, 
Transfix'd  with  hostile  javelins  on  the  banks 
Of  fam'd  Scamander.  ' 

CH0RU9. 

Silence !  for  I  heard 
The  sound  of  one  advancing  in  the  path 
Which  to  this  mansion  leads, 

ELECTRA. 

My  dearest  friends^! 
Hermione  amidst  the  slaughter  comes : 
Let  us  forbear  to  speak ;  for  she  advances. 
Ready  to  fall  into  the  net,  and  prove, 
If  I  can  take  her,  a  most  glorious  prize. 
Once  more  compose  your  looks^  nor  by  a  change    * 
In  your  complexion  make  our  purpose  known. 

1  o'er  these  eyes  will  also  cast  a  gloom. 
As  tho'  I  were  not  privy  to  the  deed. 

HERMIONE,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

ELECTRA. 

Hast  thou,  O  virgin,  deck'd  with  flowery  wreaths 
The  tomb  of  Clytemnestra,  and  pour'd  forth 
Libations  to  her  shade  i 

HERMIOKE.  ' 

I  havfe  performed 
C^I^  expiatory  rite :  but  some  strange*  fear 


^. 


1  » f.» 


'  ^ 


■m 


ORESTES.  ii5 

Seized  my  bo$oiii;  for  I  heard  the  shrieks 
Of  one  within,  while  y^tl  from  the  palace 
Was  distant  far. 

ELECTRA. 

What  mean'at  thou?  such  events 
Have  happened  as  deserve  these  groans. 

HERMIONE. 

Use  words 
Of  better  omen.    But  what  recent  tidings 
Would  you  communicate  ? 

ELECTRA. 

This  land  hath  sentenc'd 
Me  and  Orestes  to  immediate  death. 

HERMIONE. 

Just  heaven  forbid!  for  ye  are  both  my  kindred. 

ELECTRA. 
Thus  'tis  ordain'd :  we  in  the  galling  yoke 
Of  fate  are  bound. 

HERMIONE. 

And  did  the  clamorous  voice 
I  heard  within  the  palace,  hence  arise? 

ELECTRA. 

A  Suppliant  falls  at  Helen's  knees^  and  sqes 
Aloud  for  p*ity« 

HERMIONE. 
Who  ?  I  have  no  knowledge 
Of  what  hath  pass'd,  unless  you  will  inform  me. 

ELECTRA. 

The  miserable  Orestes,  he  in  treats 
That  she  from  death  would  save  both  him  and  me. 

HERMIONE. 

.  A  cause  ^o  just  for  th'  inauspicious  sounds 
Which  thro'  this  house  are  beard. 

ELECTRA. 

Than  these,  what  plaints 
Can  be  more  urgent  t    But,  O  come  and  join 
Thy  friends  in  their  intreaties,  bending  low 


•  ■ 


t ._  ,^  # 


126  ORESTES. 

■ 

Before  thy  Mother,  that  moftt  happy  datbe,, " 
That  Menelaus  will  not  see  Of  die. 
But  O  do  thou,  who  by  my  Mother's  care 
W^rt  nurtured,  pity  and  relieve  our  woes. 
Enter  this  contest ;  I  will  lead  the  way  : 
For  all  our  safety  rests  on  thee  alone.  ' 

HERMIONE. 
Lo!  to  the  threshold  I  direct  my  step:  _ 

Far  as  on  me  depends,  be  safety  yours. 

\JBant  HBBMIORB. 
ELEGTRA, 

O  ye,  my  friends,  who  in  the  palace  stand 
With  falchions  arm'd,  will  ye  not  seize  your  prey  ? 

HERMIONE  (fK^Om.) 

Ah  me !  but  who  are  these  whom  I  behold  ?       •' 

ORESTES  (n^Mu) 

Thou  must  be  silent :  for  thou  hither  com'st 
Us  to  preserve,   whatever  thyself  betide, 

ELECtltA. 
Hold,  hold  her  fast,  and,  aiming  at  her  neck' 
Your  swords,  delay  the  stroke,  that  Menelaus 
May  see  her  danger;  as  his  crimes  deserve. 
Since  now  he  suffers,  having  met  with  men, 
Not  Phrygian  dastards.     A  tumultuous  din. 
And  clamorous  shout,  before  these  mansions  raise^ 
To  drown  the  cries  of  slaughter,  O  my  friends. 
Lest  Argos  catch  th'  alarm,  and  to  the  aid 
Of  Helen  rush,  ere  I  her  weltering  corse 
Can  with  these  eyes  behold,   or  by  some  servant 
The  tidings  hear :   for  I  already  know 
Her  danger,  but  not  whether  she  be  slain. 

[£nV  SLBGTSA. 
CHORUS. 

With  justice  hath  the  vengeance  of  the  Gods 
Overtaken  faithless  Helen  :  for  all  Greece 
With  tears  she  filFd,  thro*  that  accursed  swaiii 
Of  Ida,  Paris,  who  from  Sparta's  coast 


^  . 


I  a? 

To  distant  Ilicm  borethebeauieous  dathev      ' 

Bat  O  be  silent ;  for  the  palai^e  gates 

Are  with  loud  ^ound  unban-'d^  and  thence  com^s  forth 

One  of  the  Phrygian  captives ;  we  by  him 

May  be  informM  of  what  hath  passed  within. 

PHYRGIAN,  CHORUS. 

PHYRGIAN. 

\j  from  the  sword  of  Argos  and  from  deaths 
In  Phrygian  sandals,  thro'  apartments  scap'd. 
Whose  sculptured*  roofs  with  cedar  are  adorn'd^ 
And  Doric  triglyphs,    A  strange  land,  alas! 
Is  this  to  the  Barbaric  fugitive. 
Ye  Ibreign  Dames,  ah>  whither  shall  I  go 
For  refuge,  to  the  blue  etherial  fields^ 
Or  waves,  which  Ocean  horned  monarch'  pours 
From  his  exhaustless  source,  with  giant  arms    * 
This  nether  world  encircling  ? 

CHORUS. 

What  hath  happen'djt 
Say,  O  thou  slave  of  Helen,  thou  who  com'st 
Ffomlda? 

PHRYGIAN. 

nion,  Ilion,  O  thou  city 
Of  Phrygia,  for  thy  fruitful  soil  renown'd ! 
Thon  sacred  mount  of  Ida,  thy  destruction 
How  do  I  wail,  tiiese  mournful  strains  attuning 
With  a  barbaric  voice !    Thou  to  the  eyes 
Of  her  .the  Swan  begot,  thy  ruin  ow'st. 
To  Leda's  daughter,  execrable  Helen, 
That  baneful  fiend,  who  overthrew  the  towers 
Erected  by  Apollo's  skilful  hand. 
Hapless  Dar^ania !    O  thou  martial  realm. 
Erst  in  an  evil  hour  didst  thou  produce 
Jove's  minion,  Ganym^cle. 

CHORUS. 
To  us  relate^ 


•  <     k 


i£d  ORESTES. 

In  terms  explicit^  all  thai  hatb  been  done 

Within  the  Palace :  for  what  erst  I  knew  not,      ^  " « 

I  now  can  guess.  '    *> 

PHRYGIAN. 

Those  ( 12 J  words^  those  plaintive  wordif* 
Which  still  commence  the  sad  funereal  dirge. 
Barbarian  tribes,  with  Asiatic  voice. 
And  piteous  wailings  utter,  when  the  blood 
Of  mighty  kings,  slain  by  the  sword,  to  sate    * 
Remorseless  Pluto,  on  the  ground  js  pour'd. 
Into  the  palace  (if  I  must  repeat 
Each  circumstance)  two  Grecian  lions  rush'd : 
The  father  of  the  first  of  these  was  call'd 
The  (13)  Mighty  Chief,  his  comrade,  Strophios*  Sod, 
A  man  in  every  mischievous  device 
Slciird  ;  like  Ulysses,  silently  deceitful. 
But  firm  in  his  attachment  to  his  friends; 
A  dauntless  combatant,  in  martial  wiles 
Expert,  a  serpent  who  still  thirsts  for  gore. 
Curse  on  the  seeming  mildness  he  assumed, 

(12)  Frequently  as  the  expression  in  the  original  AiXiwr,  which  Khif 
and  Dr.  Musgrave  render  '*  JElinon/  occurs  in  the  Greek  Poets,  I 
never  recollect  to  have  met  with  it  translated  into  English.  Ancient 
writers  vary  in  their  accounts  both  of  the  birth  and  death  of  lioni. 
Diodorus  Siculus  speaks  of  him  as  the  first  Greek  who  invented  ihyme 
and  melody,  and  mcations  his  attempting  to  teach  Hercules  to  play  oa 
the  lyre,  but  with  such  ill  success  as  provok'd  him  to  strike  bis  pupi^ 
who  retum*d  the  blow  and  kill*d  his  master  with  the  instrument  on  wfaicb 
he  was  practising.  Conon  calls  Apollo  the  fkther,  and  Psamathi  the 
mother  of  Linus,  and  informs  us^  thut  while  he  was  yet  an  infant,  he  was 
accidentally  torn  to  pieces  by  shepherds*  dogs:  but  PiMisanias  says  it  is 
generally  reported  that  Amphitnarus,  son  of  Neptune,  was  his  ftither, 
and  the  Muse  Urania  his  Mother,  and  adds,  that  he  was  killed  by  ApoUo, 
whom  he  contended  with  in  song.  He  represents  the  lamentations  ibr  the 
deatii  of  Linus  as  having  reached  even  the  Barbanan  nations ;  and  makes 
particular  mention,  as  also  does  Herodotus,  of  elegiac  verses  among  the 
^Egyptians  distinguished ,  by  his  name.  This  general  celebrity  of  Linus 
sufficiently  obviates  any  objection  against  Euripides^  for  putting  the  term^ 
Atiurcv  into  the  mouth  of  this  Phrygian  slave. 

(13)  Agamemnon. 


ORESTES.  129 

The  forethought  of  that  villain  !  they  together 

Entering  the  palace^  both  approached  the  throne 

Of  her  whom  Paris,,  our  fam'd  archer,  wedded. 

Their  eyes  were  drench'd  in  tears,  low  on  the  ground 

Apart  they  sat  to  guard  on  either  side 

The  royal  dame,  and  clung  with  suppliant  hands. 

Round  Helen's  knees :  but  to  their  Queen  with  speed 

The  Phrygian  servants  ran,  and  spoke  their  thoughts 

Each  to  bis  fellow,  dreading  vile  deceit : 

Some  deem'd  this  was  not  fraud  :  but  others  saw 

Fall  clearly,  that  the  serpent  who  had  9lain 

His  Motker,  in  inextricable  snares 

Wish'd  to  entangle  the  surviving  Daughter 

:Of  Tyndarus. 

CHORUS. 
At  that  moment  where  wert  thou  ? 
By  terror  seizM  hadst  thou  already  fled  I 

PHRYGIAN. 

After  our  Phrygian  usages  I  stood 
Before  the  beauteous  Helen,  o'er  whose  hair 
And  crimson  cheeks  I  with  a  ftin  difFusM 
The  cooling'  air ;  thus  are  Barbaric  Queens 
Attended  :  she  meantime  the  lengthened  thread 
With  her  swift  fingers  from  the  distaff  roH'd, 
That  Ilion's  spoils,  for  Clytemnestra*s  tomb^ 
A  purple  robe,  fit  offering,  might  afford. 
But  to  the  Spartan  fair,  Orestes  said ; 
"  Daughter  of  Jove,  descending  from  thy  throne, 
*'  Visit  with  me  that  hallow'd  spot,  where  stands 
*'  An  altar  rear'd  in  antient  days  by  Pelops 
''  My  ancestor,  you  there  shall  know  my  schemes.'* 
He  led  her  on ;  she  followed,  having  form'd 
No  sad  presage  of  what  would  soon  ensue : 
But  his  vile  Phocian  friend  in  other  tasks 
Engag'd,  then  cried  ;   '^  Why  will  ye  not  depart  ? 
^'  But  Phrygians  ever  harbour  needless  fears." 
He  then  dispersing  thro'  this  vast  abode 

VOL.   I.       ^  K 


130  ORESTES. 

Our  troop,  or  in  the  stalls  where  coursers  feed. 
Or  chambers  near  the  vestibule,  confin'd  us; 
Placing  some  here,  some  there,  all  far  remov'd 
From  our  unhappy  Mistress. 

CHORUS. 

What  disaster 
PoUow'd  this  prelude  ? 

PHRYGIAN. 

Queen  of  Ida's  Mount 
Rhea,  thou  mighty  Mother,  what  dire  scenes 
Of  crimson  slaughter,  and  what  impious  deeds 
Have  these  astonish'd  eyes  alas  beheld  « 

Within  the  palace  !  when  their  hidden  swords 
They  from  beneath  their  purple  robes  had  drawn^ 
Each  cast  his  eyes  around,   to  see  that  none 
Were  there  to  aid  her ;  then  like  ruthless  boars 
Both  rushing  on  a  woman,  they  exclaim'd, 
'^  Death,  death  must  be  thy  portion,  thy  base  Lord 
^'  Is  li .  who  causes  thee  to  forfeit  life, 
*'  By  yielding  up  his  Brother's  Son  to  bleed   ,, 
'^  At  Argos,"  But  she  shriek'd,  "  Ah  me!"  and  saiote 
With  snowy  aym  her  breast  and  head,  then  strove 
To  scape  in  golden  sandals :  but  Orestes, 
Twining  his  hand  around  her  hair,  advanc'd 
With  furious  stride,  and  bending  back  her  head 
Over  her  shoulder,  rais'd  his  sword  on  high 
To  plunge  it  in  her  throat. 

CHORUS. 

Where  was  her  band 
Of  menial  Phrygians?   came  ye  to  he^'aid? 

PHRYGIAN. 

We  shouted,  and  with  levers  bursting  open 
The  doors  of  our  captivity,  rush'd  forth 
From  every  distant  quartei  of  the  house 
To  her  assistance ;  in  his  hands  this  bore 
A  stone,    a  javelin  that,  a  third  was  arm'd 
AVith  a  drawn  &word  :  but  Pylades  advanc'd 


ORESTteS.  ISI 

Against  tis,  undisihay'd  as  Phrygian  HeClOi*> 

Or  Ajax  with  his  triple-crested  hehn, 

Whom  in  the  gates  of  Priam  I  beheld. 

Our  swords  to  theirs  opposing,  soon  wc  found  « 

How  far  inferior  in  th'  embattled  field 

Are  we  to  Grecian  warriors.     One  ^scap'd. 

Another  was  depriv'd  of  life,   here  grovel'd 

The  wounded,  there  t'  avert  th'  impending  stroke 

.  The  suppliant  crouched,  while  some  of  us  found  shelter/ 
In  an  obscure  recess  ;  but  on  the  ground* 
Drench'd  with  their  gore  the  breathless  corses  lay, 
And  some  were  yet  to  fall,  some  fall'n  already* 
But  to  the  palace  in  that  moment  fcame 
Hermione,  just  as  the  ruthless  blade 
Was  lifted  to  destroy  her  wretched  Mother } 
When  (tho'  they  bore  no  thyrsus)  w  ith  a  speed 
Equal  to  that  of  Bacchus'  frantic  train. 
They,  as  a  hunter  seizes  on  his  prey,  ^ 

The  virgin  caught,  and  made  anothtir  effort  ^^ 

Jove's  Daughter  to  have  slain ;  but  thro*  the  palace 
She  from  those  inner  chambers  'scap'd  unseen, 
O  Jove,  thou  foodftil  Earth,  thou  radian*^  Sun, 
And  all-concealing  Night,  thro*  (14)  drugs  6ndued 
With  wondrous  virtue,  thro'  magicians'  wiles, 

.  Or  stolen  away  by  the  celestial  Powers, 

* 

(14)  iTie  Poet  is  here  sup]>ose(l  by  his  Scholiast  to  allude  to  the  magic 
drugs  Helen  obtained  in  JEgjpt,  according  to  Homer,  Odyss.  L.  iv. 
ver.  229. 

Tout  Ato;  ^vyetki^  iyij  ^a^fjubut  f/ailtot/ld 

These  Drugs,  so  friendly  to  the  joys  of  life, 

Bright  Helen  leanVdfrom  Thone's  imperial  wife, 

Who  sway'd  the  sceptre  wherte  pvolific  Nile, 

With  various  simples  cloathes  the  fetten'd  soil. 

With  wholesome  herbage  mix'd,  the  direful  bane 

Of  vegetable  venom  taints  the  plain.  Pof£* 

Kl2 


13^  ORESTES. 

But  what  ensued  I  know  not,  for  unseen 
I  thro'  the  portal  fled.     Unnumber'd  toils 
Hath  Menelaus  suffered,  and  in  vain 
From  Troy  recovered  his  unhappy  Wife. 

CHORUS. 

E'en  in  a  moment,  from  these  fresh  events 
A  fresh  event  ensues  :  for  lifting  high 
His  vengeful  sword,  before  these  doors  I  see 
4[)restes  marching  with  impetuous  step. 

ORESTES,  PHRYGIAN,  CHORU& 

ORESTES. 

Where  is  that  slave,  who  from  the  pidace  fled. 
And  scap'd  my  falchion  ?  ,       . 

PHRYGIAN, 

You,  O  King,  I  worship, 
Prostrate  on  earth,  in  our  Barbaric  guise* 

ORESTES. 

Not  Ilion's  realm,  but  Argos  is  the  scene 
Of  these  transactions. 

PHRYGIAN* 

In  all  places,  life 
Is  far  more  grateful  to  the  wise  than  deaths 

ORESTES. 

That  Menelaus  to  thy  aid  might  come. 
Didst  thou  cry  out  i 

PHRYGIAN, 

To  fight  in  your  behalf 
Am  I  resolv'd ;  for  you  deserve  our  love. 

ORESTES. 

Was  Tyndarus'  Daughter  Helen  justly  slain  ? 

PHRYGIAN. 

Most  justly.    Had  she  had  three  lives>  she  thrit^ 
Deserv'd  to  die. 

ORESTES; 

Thou  flatter'st  with  thy  tongue 

Thro'  fear,  tho'  in  thy  heart  thou  think  not  thus. 


ORESTES.  iss 

PHRYGIAN. 

Why  not  ?    Her  crimes  have  utterly  destroy 'd 
Both  Greece  and  Phrygia  i 

ORESTES. 

Swear,  or  I  will  slay  thee, 
Tliou  speak'st  not  thus  my  favour  to  obtain. 

PHRYGIAN. 

I  by  my  life  have  sworn,  and  such  an  oath 
Ne'er  can  I  violate. 

ORESTES. 

Did  every  Phrygian 
At  Troy  thus  dread  the  sword  ? 

PHRYGIAN. 

Remove  the  pointy 
For  at  my  breast  directed  it  portends 
Dire  slaughter. 

ORESTES. 

Fear'st  thoU;  lest  thou  sbould'st  be  changed 
Into  a  stone  like  those  who  view  the  Gorgon  ? 

PHRYGIAN. 

Death's  what  alarms  me ;   of  the  Gorgon's  head 
I  nothing  know. 

ORESTES. 

Dost  thou,  an  abject  slave^ 
Fear  death,  which  would  release  thee  from  thy  woes  i 

PHRYGIAN. 

All  men,  tho'  slaves,  with  pleasure  view  the  sun. 

ORESTES. 

Well  spoken ;  thee  thy  prudence  saves ;  but  go 
Into  the  palace. 

PHRYGIAN. 

Will  you  then  forbear  V* 

To  slay  me  ? 

ORESTES. 
I  release  you. 

t>HRYGUN. 

By  that  word 


134  0KESTE8. 

you  comfort  mc. 

ORESTES. 

My  purpose  still  may  change^ 

PHRYGIAN. 

Again  you  speak  amiss. 

ORESTES. 

Thou  art  a  fool 
Jf  thou  believ'st  T  with  thy  gore  would  stain 
My  sword  :  for  thou  deserv'st  not  to  be  classed 
With  women,  or  with  men.     But  to  prevent 
Thy  cries,  I  from  the  palace  issued  forth  ; 
Else  would  all  Argos  soon  have  heard  thy  voice 
And  mutinied.     I  fear  not  with  this  sword 
T'  encounter  Menelaus;  let  him  come 
Exulting  in  those  auburn  locks  that  wave 
Over  his  shoulders  :  but  against  this  hous^ 
If  the  collected  citizens  he  lead, 
RevcBging  Helen's  death,   and  will  not  spare 
My  Sister,  me,  and  Pylades,  who  aided 
In  our  emprise,  he  shall  behold  his  Daughter 
Joia'd  with  his  Consort,  each  a  breathless  corse, 

lExeunt  orestes  and  fhuyoijilvi^ 

CHORUS. 

Again,  .O  advente  Fortune,  is  the  house 
Of  Atreus'  Spns  invojv'd  in  fresji  distress. 

SEMICHORUS  I. 

What  shall  we  dp?  tUese  tidipgs  thro'  the  cit^ 
Proclaim  ;  or  will  it  be  more  ^afe  to  wait 
In  silence,  0  my  friends  f 

SEMICHORUS  II. 

Befofe  these  doors. 
See  h<Ag  that  smoke  ^sc^oding  to  the  skies 
Apticipgrfes  our  tidings. 

si;mjchojius  i. 

They  have  kindle^ 
Torches  of  pine,  as  if  resolv'd  to  fire 
The  rogfs  of  Tapt^Jus'  devoted  race, 


^  ■■"..' 


ft   *•. 


ORESTES.  185 

Nor  yet  desist  they  from  their  murderous  deeds. 
To  mortals  Jove  dispenseth  at  his  will 
Future  events :  but  some  resistless  Power 
This  house  hath  smitten,  aided  by  the  Fiends; 
Here  streams  abundant  gore,  since  from  the  car 
Myrtilus  was  thrown  headlong. 

8EMICH0RUS  II. 

But  these  eyes 
Discern  fierce  Menelaus,  who  with  speed 
The  royal  dome  approaches  :  he  no  doubt. 
By  fame  hath  been  appris'd  of  this  event 
Which  hath  just  happened.     Therefore  barring  fast 
The  massive  gates,  ye  progeny  of  Atreus 
Who  are  within,  will  ye  not  stop  his  entrance  ? 
The  man  whom  prosperous  fortunes  still  attend 
Is  terrible  to  those  who  are  as  wretched 
As  thou,  Orestes,  in  this  present  hour, 

MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

ORESTES,    PYLADEs,   Old  uBRMioNE,  appear  on  a 

Tower  above. 

MENELAUS. 

Hearing  the  horrid  and  audacious  deeds. 
Two  lions,  for  I  cannot  call  th^m  men. 
Have  dar'd  to  perpetrate,  I  hither  come. 
For  I  am  told  my  Consort  was  not  slain. 
But  vanished  from  all  eyes ;   this  groundless  tale 
Onp  whom  his  fear  bewilder'd,   hath  to  me 
Related  :   but  suqji  stratagems  are  forg'd 
With  sportive  cruelty,  by  those  who  murder'd 
Their  Mother.     Ope  the  doors,  my  servants,  force ^ 
Their  hinges,  that  at  least  I  may  set  free         7' 
My  Daughter  from  the  hands  of  bloody  men. 
And  the  remains  of  my  uribappy  Wife 
Receive,  with  whom  her  murderers  by  this  arm 
Shall  perish, 


^  ISS  ORESTES. 

.-ORESTES*    » 

Ho !  touch  not  those  bai*s;  I  call 
To  thee,  G  Menelaus,  who  art  strong 
In  pride  alone ;   or  from  this  antient  roof 
I  will  disjoin  the  sculptur'd  pinnacle. 
And  crush  thy  perjur'd  head*     Wjtl;t-aiassive  bars 
Against  thy  rage  these  doors  are  fortified. 
Thou  canst  not  force  an  entrance* 

MENELAUS. 

Ha!  what  mean 
The  blazing  torches  with  these  eyes  behold  ? 
Why  stand  they  on  the  summit  of  the  palace. 
Secure  from  danger,  while  the  sword  impends 
Over  ray  Daughter's  neck. 

ORESTES* 

Art  thou  disposed 
To  question  us,  or  listen  to  my  words  i 

MENELAUS.       - 

I  would  avoid  such  option :  but  it  seemB 
Hear  you  1  must. 

ORESTES. 

Know  then  I  am  resolv'd 
To  slay  thy  Daughter. 

MENELAUS. 

Having  murder'd  Helen, 
Fresh  slaughter  to  that  slaughter  will  you  add? 

ORESTES. 

Ah !  would  to  Heaven,  ere  Helen  by  the  Gods 
Was  stolen  away,  this  sword  had  pierc'd  her  heart ! 

MENELAUS. 

Do  you  deny  the  bloody  deed,  and  forge 
This  tale  but  to  insult  me  ? 

ORESTES. 

Tis'  with  grief 
That  I  deny :  while  earnestly  I  wish— 

MENELAUS. 

What  mean  you  ?  for  these  words  alarm  my  soul. 


ORESTES.  Ijy 

ORESTE& 

That  I  had  plung'd  that  Fiend,  the  bane  of  Greece, 
Beneath  the  shades  of  hell. 

MENELAUS. 

My  Consort's  body 
Kestore,  that  I  may  lodge  it  in  the  tomb. 

ORESTES. 

Apply  to  Heaven :  thy  Daughter  too  FU  slay. 

MENELAUS. 

Still  with  fresh  murders  reek  th'  accursed  hand 
Of  him  who  smote  his  Mother. 

ORESTES. 

In  avenging 
My  Father,  whom  thou  didst  betray,  and  leave 
His  death  unpuuish'd. 

MENELAUS. 

Is  it  not  enough 
That  you  are  sprinkled  with  her  Mother's  blood  ? 

ORESTES. 

I  never  can  be  wearied  with  destEoying 
Vile  women. 

MENELAUS. 

Wert  thou  too,  O  Pylades, 
Concem'd^in  slaying  her? 

ORESTES. 

He  by  his  silence 
Asserts  the  fact :  and  if  I  speak  for  both, 
Twill  be  sufficient. 

MENELAUS. 
Qut  ye  shall  not  triumph, 
Unless  endued  with  wings  to  speed  your  flight. 

ORESTES. 

Flight  we  disdain,  but  are  resolv'd  to  fire 
These  mansions. 

MENELAUS^ 

Would  you  then  lay  waste  th'  abodes 
Of  your  forefathers  i 


138  ORESTES. 

ORESTES. 

Lest  thou  should'st  possess  them ; 
And  o'^r  the  flames  Hermione  sh^U  bleed.' 

MENELAUS: 

Strike :  soon  as  you  have  slain  her,  you  shall  suflfer  . 

As  you  deserve. 

X    ORESTES. 
1  will.  .        - 

MENELAUS. 

Yet,  ah  forbear. 

ORESTES. 

In  silence  now  endure  those  grievous  ills 
Which  thou  hast  merited. 

MENELAUS. 

Can  it  be  just 
That  you  should  live  ? 

ORESTES. 

Yea,  and  command  a  realm. 

MENELAUS. 

What  realm  ? 

ORESTES. 

My  heritage,  this  wide  domain, 
Pelasgran  Argos. 

MENELAUS. 

Are  you  qualified 
To  touch  the  sacred  lustral  va^e  i        M 

ORESTES. 

Why  not  ? 

MENELAUS. 

And  ere  the  battle  joins  present  your  victims  ? 

ORESTES. 

Canst  thou  perform  such  holy  rite  ? 

MENELAUS. 

My  hands 
Are  pure  and  undefil'd. 

ORESTES. 

Not  so  thy  heart. 


« 


ORESTES.  139 

MENEIAUS. 

Who  will  converse  with  you  ? 

ORESTES. 

The  man  who  loves 
His  Sire. 

MENELAUS. 

,  But  as  for  him,  who  doth  revere 
His  Mother  ? 

ORESTES. 
He  is  blest. 

MENELAUS. 

So  are  not  you. 

ORESTES. 

Because  I  like  not  those  abandoned  Dames. 

MENELAUS. 

That  weapon  from  my  Daughter's  breast  remove. 

ORESTES. 

Thou  art  deceiv'd. 

MENELAUS. 

Will  you  then  take  st^i^ 
The  virgin's  life  ? 

ORESTES. 

Here  thy  delusion  ends. 

MENELAUS. 
Ah  me  !  how  shall  I  act  ? 

ORESTES. 

Go  and  persuade 
The  Argives. 

MENELAUS. 

To  do  what  ? 

ORESTES. 

Implore  the  city 
To  spare  our  lives. 

MENELAUS. 

*  '  My  Daughter  else  must  bleed  ? 

ORESTES. 
Such  is  the  state  of  things. 


:y.' 


140  ORESTES. 

MENELAU8. 

O  wretched  Helen ! 

ORESTES* 

Am  not  I  wretched  too  ? 

MENELAUS. 

Have  I  from  Phrygia 
Borne  her  to  fall  a  victim  by  your  hand  f 

ORESTES. 

Would  to  the  Gods  thou  had'st! 

MENELAUS. 

After  enduring 
Unnumbered  toils  ? 

ORESTES. 

No  dangers  in  my  cause 
Didst  thou  endure. 

MENELAUS. 

Most  grievous  are  my  woes. 

ORESTES. 

Thou  dJL^Bt  refuse  to  aid  me  in  distress. 

MENELAUS. 

You've  caught  me. 

ORESTES. 

Thy  own  wickedness  hath  caught  thee. 
But  ho^  Electra>  so  intense  a  fire 
Kindle  beneath  as  may  consume  the  palace : 
And  you,  O  Pylades^  of  all  my  friends 
Most  stedfast,  burn  these  roofs. 

MENELAUS. 

Thou  land  of  Danaus^ 
And  ye  inhabitants  of  Argos  fam'd 
For  generous  steeds,  why  will  ye  not  in  arms 
Rush  forth  to  aid  me  i  for  this  miscreant  wars 
'Gainst  our  whole  city,  to  preserve  his  life, 
Tho'  be  with  impious  hand  hath  slain  his  Mother. 


ORESTES.  141 

APOLLO,  MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

ORESTES^  PYLAD^s^  d^^J  HERMioNE,  appear  abovc 

on  a  Tower. 

APOLLO. 
O  Menelaus^  lay  thy  rage  aside^ 
For  I  Apollo,  from  Latona  sprung^ 
Am  near  at  hand^  ^od  now  to  thee  I  call : 
And  thou,  Orestes,  who  thv  falchion  wav'st 
Over  that  virgin^  to  my  voice  attend ; 
That  Helen  who**JTuded  thy  assault. 
When  thou,  provoking  Meneiaus'  anger. 
Didst  eagerly  rush  on,  resolv'd  to  take 
Her  life  away,  is  she  whom  in  yon  folds 
Of  air  thou  seest,  from  thy  vindictive  hand 
Preserved,  and  living  still;  at  Jove's  behest 
I  saVd,  I  snatchM  her  from  thy  lifted  sword  : 
For  'tis  decreed  by  fate^  she  shall  enjoy 
Immortal  life,  because  she  is  J  ove's  Daughter, 
And  in  th'  ethereal  regions  take  her  seat 
With  Castor  and  with  Pollux,  to  protect 
The  mariners.    But  thou  into  thy  house 
Shalt  take  another  Consort,  since  the  Gods 
EmbroiFd  the  Greeks  and  Phrygians  thro*  ber  charnu^ 
And  caused  unnumber'd  deaths,  that  they  might  purge 
The  groaning  world  of  its  unrighteous  swarms. 
Thus  much  for  Helen.    Yet  must  tliou,  Orestes, 
Quitting  the  confines  of  this  land,  reside 
For  one  whole  year  in  the  Parrhasian  realm  ^ 
After  thy  exile,  shall  the  place  receive 
From  those  of  Aza  and  th'  Arcadian  race 
The  name  of  Oresteum  :  thou  to  Athens    . 
Must  thence  proceed,  a  trial  to  jendure 
For  having  slain  thy  Mother,  and  thy  cause 
Against  the  three  Eumenides  defend  : 
The  Gods  themselves  thy  judges,  on  the  hill 
Of  Mars  a  righteous  sentence  shall  award. 


14«  ORESTES.  J 

And  there  shall  thou  prevail :  yet  more,  the  Fates 
Ordain  thou  wed  her  o'er  whose  neck  thou  wav'st 
Thy  sword,  the  bright  Herm^ine  ;  in  vain 
Doth  Neoptolemus  the  promised  bride 
Expect,  for  her  he  never  shall  possess. 
But  by  the  sword  at  Delphi  shall  he  fall, 
Because  his  impious  tongue  from  me  hath  claim'd 
Atonement  for  his  Sire' Achilles'  death. 
On  Pylades,  to  whom  thou  didst  affiance. 
Bestow  thy  Sister ;  for  their  future  lives 
Shall  happiness  attend. — O  Menelaus, 
In  Argos  let  Orestes  rule ;  go  thou 
•  And  wield  the  sceptre  of  the  Spartan  realm. 
Retaining  still  the  dower  thy  Consort  brought. 
By  whom  till  now  thou  in  unnumber'd  toils 
(15)  Hast  ever  been  involved.     I  who  constrain*d 
Orestes  in  maternal  gore  ^  imbrue  * 
His  furious  hands,  all  tumult  in  the  city 
Will  for  his  sake  appease. 

ORESTES. 

Prophetic  God  I 
Thy  oracles,  O  Phoebus,  never  prov'd 
Fallacious,  but  by  truth's  unerring  voice 
Were  dictated.     Some  Demon  had,  I  fear'd, 
Usurp'd  thy  tripod,  and  in  mimic  sounds 
Impos'd  a  specious  falshood  on  mine  ear  ?  ' 

But  amply  hath  thy  promise  been  fulfiU'd, 
And  thy  behest  I  therefore  will  obey. 
.  Lo,  I  release  Hermione  from  death. 
And  for  the  partner  of  my  nuptial  bed 
Will  take  the  virgin,  if  her  Sire  approve. 


(15)  Tlie  editions  of  Barnes  and  Dr.  Musgrave  follow  that  of  AlduB  in 
placing  a  comma  after  h,ht<m,  and  render  this  passage  quae  te  mnltos  dans 
in  labores,  hue  reduxit.  On  the  authority  of  Brunck's  edition  of  tiiit 
Tragedy,  printed  at  Strasburg  1779^  I  have  erased  the  comma,  and  availed 
m^-self  of  the  ^prsion  given  by  hhn  iu  a  note,  quae  te  mdesinenter  hue 
usque  laberibtts  impficmt. 


ORESTES.  *  143 

MENEIAUS4 

Daughter  of  Jove,  all  hail!  for  thee,  O  Helen, 
Who  in  the  mansions  of  the  Gods  resid'st 
I  term  supremely  hiest. — ^To  you  Orestes, 
My  Daughter,  I,  as  Phoebus  gives  command. 
Affiance;  nobly  born,  and  to  the  child 
Of  noble  parents  wedded,  may  both  you. 
And  I  who  give  her  to  your  arms,  be  blest. 

APOLLO. 

Now  to  the  place  assign'd  let  each  repair. 
And  cease  your  contests. 

MENELAUS. 
I  ani  bound  t'  obey. 

ORESTES. 

And  so  I  am.    But  now  to  tiiee  I  pledge 
My  friendship,  thro'  compassion  for  the  woes 
Which  thou,  O  Menelaus,  hast  endur'd ; 
And  to  thy  oracles,  O  Phoebus,  yield 
Implicit  homage. 

APOLLO. 
Go  your  several  ways. 
Revering  Peace  the  loveliest  of  the  God^. 
But  to  Jove's,  palace,  Helen,  will  I  lead. 
Traversing  the  resplendent  starry  pole. 
Where  seated  close  to  Juno  and  the  Bride 
Of  great  Alcides,  Hebe,  she  by  mortals 
Ackaowledg'd  as  a  tutelary  Goddess, 
The  rich  libation  ever  shall  receive. 
With  the  Tyndaridse  the  Sons  of  Jove, 
Guiding  the  sailors  while  they  plough  the  deep. 

CHORUS. 
O  venerable  Victory,  take  possession 
Of  my  whole  life,  nor  ever  cease  to  twine 
Around  these  brows  thy  laureat  wreath  divine* 


HISrORY 

OF 

THE  HOUSE  OF  TANTALUS. 

Ihe  transactions  of  the  Ancestors  of  OrcstdJ  are  86 

often  -  referred  to  in  the  preceding  Drama^  that  I 
thought  it  would  not  he  unacceptable  to  the  reader  to 
have  a  sketch  of  their  history  placed  before  him  in  one 
point  of  view,  instead  of  being  interrupted  by  a  variety 
of  detached  references,  especiatly  as  it  may  be  service- 
able in  giving  those  who  are  not  intimately  conversant 
with  the  Classical  writers,  a  clearer  view  of  the  other 
pieces  connected  with  this  story,  which  form  a  very  con- 
siderable part  of  the  works  of  Euripides.  Amidst  many 
different,  and  not  unfrequently  contradictory  accounts^ 
I  have  made  it  my  business  to  select  such  as  are  either 
conformable  to  the  Tragedies  before  us,  or  serve  to 
supply  and  connect  what  the  Poet  has  left  deficient. 

The  Mother  of  Tantalus  was  Phita,  the  wife  of  Tmoius, 
a  Lydian  King,  but  Jupiter  is  said  to  have  been4)it  real 
Father?  the  place  of  his  residence  was  Sipylusi  which 
Achilles,  in  the  Iphigenia  in  Auhs  of  our  author,  re^ 
presents  as  an  obscure  frontier  Town,  though  the  riehes 
of  Tantalus  appear,  by  the  manner  in  which  Plato 
speaks  of  them  in  his  Euthypbro,  to  have  been  so 
great  that  they  became  proverbial :  the  Gods  honoured 
his  table  with  their  presence  at  a  feast,  but  his  vanity 
induced  him  to  betray  their  conversation  :  he  was  pu- 
nished, according  to  Euripides,  for  this  offence,  by  a 
stone  of  enormous  size  perpetually  hanging  in  the  air 
suspended  ove^  his  head :  the  history  of  his  murdering 
his  son  Pelops,  and  serving  up  his  mangled  limbs  to 
his  celestial  guests,  is  mentioned  by  Iphigenia  in  her 
captivity  among  the  Tauric  Scythians  as  an  improbable 


HISTORY,  &c.  145 

tale,  forged  by  those  savage  nations  delighting  in  hu* 
man  sacrifices,  who  hoped  to  justify  their  own  cruelties 
by  falsely  representing  the  Gods  as  having  partaken  so 
execrable -a  banquet.  By  his  Wife  Euryanassa,  Tan- 
talus had  two  sons,  Pelops  and  Broteas,  and  one 
daughter,  Niobe,  who  married  Amphion  :  after  having 
seen  her  numerous  progeny  all  slain  by  the  shafts  of 
Apollo  and  Diana,  she  was  herself  transformed  into  a 
rock  ;  the  tomb  of  her  seven  Daughters  is  mentioned 
in  our  Author's  Phcenissse,  as  situated  not  far  without 
the  gates  of  Thebes,  whose  walls  her  husband  Amphion 
bad  erected  by  his  lyre.  According  to  Aristotle  in  his 
Meteorology,  and  Strabo,  who  argues  for  the  proba- 
bility of  such  an  event  from  natural  causes,  the  Town 
of  Sipylus  was  entirely  swallowed  up  by  an  earthquake ; 
but  Plutarch  says,  the  poets  considered  its  demolition 
as  a  signal  instance  of  divine  vengeance :  in  such  hor- 
ror and  detestation  was  the  memory  of  Tantalus  held 
by  the  antients,  notwithstanding  the  great  power  and 
heroic  qualities  of  several  of  his  descendants.  The 
account  of  Tantalus's  death  given  by  Antoninus  Libe- 
ralis,  in  his  Metamorphosis^  is,  that  having  denied 
with  an  oath  the  receipt  of  a  pledge  entrusted  to  him 
by  Pandareus  the  son  of  Merops,  Jupiter  punished  his 
perjury  by  throwing  him  headlong  from, the  mountain 
of  the  same  name,  at  the  Foot  of  which  the  Town  of 
Sipylus  was  situated  ;  and  Pausanias  informs  us,  that 
he  there  saw  a  conspicuous  monument  erected  to  his 
memory. 

After  the  death  of  Tantalus,  Pelops,  who  succeeded 
him,  being  defeated  in  several  encounters  by  Ilus  the 
founder  of  the  Trojan  nation,  sought  an  establishment 
in  Greece,  and  entered  the  lists  as  one  of  the  com- 
petitors for  Hippodamia,  whose  Father,  Oenomaus 
king  of  Pisa,  promised  to  give  her  in  marriage  to  the 
suitor  who  overcame  him  in  a  chariot  race  ;  but  every 
one  who  made  unsuccessful  pretensions  to  the  Princess 

VOL.  I.  i« 


\ 


146  HISTORY  OF  THE 

was  to  suffer  death.  Many  had  accepted  this  alterna* 
live,  and  perished  ;  for  the  chafioi  of  Oenomaus  was 
driven  by  Myrtilus,  the  son  of  Mercury,  under  whose 
guidance  the  horses  of  that  monarch  always  reached 
the  goal  first :  but  Pelops  having  bribed  Myrtilus,  by 
swearing  to  reward  him  with  the  first  night's  enjoyment 
of  the  beautiful  Hippodamia,  for  whom  he  had  be*n 
presumptuous  enough  to  entertain  a  passion,  the  per- 
fidious charioteer  joined  his  master's  whtseir  to.  the 
axle  with  wax  only,  in  consequence  of  Mrhich.  Oeno- 
maus was  overthrown  in  the  midst  of  his  career.  Some 
disputes  no  doubt  arising  between  Oenomaus  and 
Pelops  in  consequence  of  a  victory  thus  dishonourably 
won,  the  latter  encountered  and  slew  his  antagonisjt 
with  a  spear,  which  Euripides  informs  us  was  pre- 
served as  a  memorial  of  his  triumph  in  the  palace  of  his 
descendants  :  but  no  sooner  was  the  victorious  Pelops 
reminded  by  Myrtilus  of  the  promise  he  bad  made  to 
him,  than  he  killed  his  benefactor,  and  threw  his 
dead  body  into  the  sea ;  thereby  drawing  down 
the  vengeance  of  Mercury  on  his  two  eldest  sons,  ^ 
Atreus  and  Thyestes,  whom  Pausanias  instances  as 
affording  a  striking  menM)rial  of  the  truth  of  the  re- 
sponse given  by  the  Pythian  oracle  to  Glaucus  son 
of  Epicydas,  who  consulted  it  in  regard  to  a  false 
oath,  that  the  man  who  commits  a  perjury  draws  down 
the  wrath  of  Heaven  on  his  posterity.  But  Pelops  him- 
self was  attended  by  a  degree  of  prosperity  which  far 
exceeded  his  merits^  and  notwithstanding  the  dis- 
honourable means  by  which  l>e  won  the  race,  he  cele- 
brated Olympic  games  with  great  magnificence,,  as  me-^ 
morials  of  his  conquest,  and  in  process  of  tinie  form* 
ing  several  powerful  alliances  by  the  marriages  of  his 
children,  acquired  such  accessions  of  territory  and  au- 
thority, that  the  large  peninsula  of  Greece,  which  had 
till  ihtn  been  known  by  the  names  of  Apiaand  Pelasgia, 
xecewjtd  frombim  that  of  Peloponesus^  which  is  usually 


HOUSE  OF  TANTALUS.  147 

adopted  in  the  maps  of  antient  geography.     Besides 
Atreus  and  Thyestes,  of^hom  I  shall  soon  have  occa- 
sion to  speak  more  fully,  Pelops  had  five  legitimate  aons, 
Letreus,  Alcathous,  Plistheries,  Traezen,  and  Piitheus : 
the  latter  of  theae   (whose  Daughter  iEthra  Was  the 
Mother  of  Theseus)  is  spoken  of  by  Euripides  as  a  man 
of  singular  pitty  ;  his  residence  was  at  TrajzenCj  a  city 
in  the  Argive  territories,   so  named  from  his  brother 
Trszen^  where  he  lived  to  a   very  advanced   age,  and 
educated  his  Great-grandson    JHippolitus,   the   son  of 
Theseus.     Plutarch  expressly  says,   that   Pelops  had 
many  Daughters^  bat  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover 
the   names  of  more  than  three;  Anaxibia^  Lysidice, 
and^icippe;  the  first  married  Strophius  king  of  Phocis, 
and  was  Mother   to  Pylades,  whose  friendship  for  his 
kiosman  Orestes   has  been  universally  celebrated ;  the 
second  married  Electryon  king  of  Mycene^  to  whom 
she  bore  Alcmena,  the  Mother  of  Hercules  ;  the  third 
married  Sthenelus,  who,  upon  the  death  of  Electryon, 
whom   Amphitryon,     the    husband    of  his   Daughter 
Alcmena,  had  accidentally  slain,  seized  the  throne  of 
,  Mycene,  in  which  he  was  succeeded  by  Eurystheus, 
his  son  by  Nicippe,  whose  tyrannical  behaviour  to  his 
kinsman  Hercules,   and  after  that  hero's  death   to  his 
children,  whom  he  pursued    with  unremitting  cruelty, 
is  largely  treated  of  in  the  Tragedy  called  Heraclidae^ 
or  the  Children  of  Hercules,     Chrysiypus,    a   natural 
-  son   of  Pelops,    was  treacherously  stolen  from  him  by 
liaius  his  guest,  who  by  this  breach  of  hospitality  drew 
down  upon  himself  the  vengeance   of   Heaven,  and 
perished,  as  the  oracle  had  foretold,  by   the  hands  of 
Jiis  own  son  Oedipus. 

After  the  death  of  Pelops,  the  rest  of  his  children 
having  dispersed  themselves  through  various  parts  of 
the  Peloponesus,  Atreus  and  Thyestes  remained  in  the 
undivided  possession  of  Argos,  till  Mercury  having 
caused  a  Bisia  with  a  golden  iSeece  to  ap]^ear  among 


H8  HISTORY  OF  THE    * 

the  flocks  of  the  former,  he  claimeil  the  thmne  in  cona 
sequence  of  this  prodigy,  supposed  to  be  vouchfafed 
from  Heaven  in  his  favour.  The  citizens  were,  bv 
public  prochimation,  called  together  to  decide  this  im.- 
portant  question  ;  but,  previous  to  their  meeting, 
Thyestes,  with  the  assistance  of  iErope,  his  Brother^s 
Wife  whom  he  had  debauched,  conveyed  the  Golden^ 
Ham  into  his  own  stalls,  and  thereby  procured  from 
the  assembly  a  declaration  in  his  favour.  AH  succeeds 
ing  ages  have  recorded  with  detestation  the  cruelty 
with  which  these  injuries  were  revenged  by  Atreus, 
who  caused  two  children,  the  fruits  of  this  incestuous 
commerce  between  Thyestes  and  ^rope,  to  be  killed, 
and  served  up  to  their  Father  at  an  entertainment:  the 
sun  recoiled  with  horror  at  such  an  execrable  feast,  and 
many  portentous  signs  of  the  wrath  of  Heaven  appeared 
in  ihe  skies,  ^rope  herself  was  thrown  into  the  sea 
by  the  remorseless  Atreus,  who  for  a  time  prospered 
in  his  wickedness,  and  not  only  kept  possession  of  tbe 
throne  of  Argos,  whence  he  expelled  Thyestes ;  but, 
?is  Thucydides  informs  us,  upon  his  nephew  Eurystheus 
being  slain  in  Attica  by  the  sons  of  Hercules,  added  to 
^is  domains  the  neighbouring  city  of  Mycene,  which 
jyas  considered  as  agreat  accession  of  power  both  tohimr 
self  and  his  successors :  vengeance  however  at  length 
overtook  him,  for  iEgisthus,  son  of  Thyestes,  by  an 
incestuous  commerce  of  a  far  more  horrid  nature  with 
bis  own  Daughter  Pelopia,  had  no  sooner  attained 
man's  estate,  than  he  murdered  his  Uncle  Atreus,  and 
reinstated  his  Father  Thyestes.  Agamemnon  and  Me* 
pelaus,  the  two  sons  whom  -ffirope  had  borne  to  Atreus 
previous  to  her  seduction  by  Thyestes,  were  saved  from 
the'  fury  of  the  conqueror,  and  sent  to  Sicyon,  where 
Polyidus  then  reigned,  who  for  their  greater  security 
consigned  them  to  the  protection  of  Oeneus  king  of 
Oetolia.  In  this.state  of  precarious  dependance,  Aga« 
IQiemnonpei|>etrated:a  daring  and  atrocioos^  acttoft^ 


HOUSE  01^  TANTALUS.  149 

imifdering  a  prince  called  Tantalus,  #h<5  was  either 
son  of  Brotcasj  whom  I  have  already  mentianed  as 
younger  son  of  the  first  Tantalus,  or  of  Thyestes;  for 
Pausanias,  from  whom  I  extract  my  account  of  him, 
leaves  that  point  doubtful.  Agamemnon's  motive  for 
killing  hiro,  appears  to  have  been  in  order  to  take  pos- 
session of  his  Wife  Cl5'temncstra,  Daughter  toTyn- 
darus  king  of  Sparta,  who  reproaches  him  in  the 
Iphigenia  in  Aulis,  one  of  the  Tragedies  of  our  author) 
with  having  also  destroyed  her  child  by  her  first  hu^ 
band,  then  an  infant,  whom  he  tore  from  her  arms,  and 
dashed  against  the  pavement.  Castor  and  Polkix,  t&e 
two  celebrated  sons  of  Jupiter,  whom  Leda  bore  to  tliat 
'Grod  in  consequence  of  his  approaching  'her  under  the 
•  form  of  a  Swan,  made  war  on  the  ravisher,  and  de- 
feated him  :^  the  troops  of  a  man  in  his  situation,  could 
have  consisted  only  of  a  band  of  robbers  gathered  to- 
gtether  by  the  hopes  of  plunder  :  but  upon  his  being 
tanquished,  and  becoming  a  suppliant,  Tyndanis  for- 
gave him, 'bestowed  Clytemneslra  on  him  in  marriage, 
aiii«d  assis^i^ig  him  with  his  troops,  enabled  him  and 
lii»  Brother  Menelaus  to  subdue  Thyestes,  who  fled  to 
fart'*' altar  of  Juno  as  an  asylum,  from  whence  he  capi. 
tuJi^ted  tmd  surrendered  himself  up  to  his  nephews,  oii 
tlj*>ir  taking  an  oath  that  they  would  spare  his  lij'e  ;  they 
dftfcetved  thefr  engngemerit,  but  deposed  and  confined 
htm  to  >the  island  of  Cithera,  wliere  he  ended  his  day^. 
-  Mertelaus.  the  younger  son  of  Atreus,  inarried  Helen, 
I^ndiartis's  other  daughter,  the  most  beautiful  womah 
T)(^lje*rtiitie,  atid  heiress  to  the  kingdom  of  Sparta  :  she 
had'feomahy  powerful  Grecian  Princes  for  her  suitors^ 
tbdther  Father  was  extremelv  embarrassed  how  to  dis- 
jid^e<jff*ie^-,'lest'hy  prefening  one  of  those  who  loriiieil 
preteifSitms;  he  should  draw  uf)on  hmi.-^elf  a  number  t)f 
iScmftfdable enemies.  The  followii^  expedient  oeeur- 
rcd'to' himt  h^ing  prevailed  on  them  all  it>  swear, 
%H4t  tfeey  would  uirite  ib  8Up|Joitiiig  t*^e  future  husbantl 


150  HISTORY  OF  THE 

of  the   Princess  against  any  man,  whether  Greek  or 
Biirbiirian^  who  presnmed  to  violate  his  bed,  he  per- 
mitted Helen  to   make   her   own  choice;  and  she  de- 
cided  in  favour  of  Menelaus,  to  whom  she  was  imme* 
diately  wedded  :  but  their  nuptial  happimss  was  soon 
interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  Paris^  one  of  the  sons  of 
Priam  king  of  Troy,  who  sailed  to  Sparta,  magnificently 
equipped,  and  with  a  sumptuous   train    of  attendants. 
Menelaus  received  him  with  great   hospitality;  and  he 
gained  so  far  on  the  affections  of* Helen  as  to  prevail  on 
her,  during  the  absence   of  her  husband,  whom  some 
affairs  of  importance  summoned  to  Crete,  to  embark 
and  fly  with  him  from  Sparta.     The  success  of  Paris  in 
this  dishonourable  amour,  is  by  Euripides,  in  several  of 
his  Tragedies,  as  well  as  by  most  other  antient  writers, 
attributed  to  the  favour  of  Venus,  to  whom  he  had  ad- 
judged  the  Golden  Apple,  the   prize  of  beauty,   for 
which  that  Goddess  contended  with  Juno  and  Minerva: 
but  in  the  Tragedy,  intitk'd  Helen,  we  meet  with  a  yet 
fuller  vindication  of  Helen's  character  than  the  assertion 
of  her  being  inspired   with  irresistible  love  by  the  im- 
pulse of  Venus;  it  being  related  bow  she  was  conveyed 
by  Mercury  through  the  air  into  Egypt,  and  consigned 
to  the  care  of  Proteus,  the  kipg  of  that  country,  whil« 
Paris  only    bore   away  a  cloud  which  resembled  hen 
The  deception,    we   are   told,   continued  during  the 
whole  siege  of  Troy,  and  till  Menelaus  was  driven  to 
the  shores  of  Egypt,  in  his  return  from  that  ten  years 
war:  on  his  landing,  the  shadow  vanished,  and  be  re- 
covered the  rca]  Helen,  whose  virtue  had  been  prer 
served  iincontaminated  :  nor  is  this  the  mere  invention 
of  the  Poet,  but  has  the  sanction  of  Herodotus,  the 
father   of  Greek   Historians,  in  whom  the  reader  will 
find  the  same  account,  with  some  httle  variations. 

The  real  or  imaginary  Helen  being  thus  conveyed 
from  Sparta  by  Paris,  Menelaus  sent  ambassadors  iq 
demand  her   back  again;    but  tb^  influence  of  tb« 


HOUSE  OF  TANTALUS.  151 

amorous  Prince  prevailing  over  the  counsels  of  An  te- 
nor and  the  more  prudent  senators,  the  Trojans  re- 
fused to  restore  her,  and  plunged  their  country  in  a 
war  virbich  occasioned  the  total  destruction  of  its  capitial 
city,  and  the  deaths  of  Paris,  and  almost' all  the  nu- 
merous family  of  Priam. 

The  throne  of  the  deposed  Thyestes  being  occupied 
by  Agamemnon,  he  extended  his  dominion  over  a  con* 
siderabl^  part  of  the  Pelopooesiis  and  neighbouring 
islands.  The  superior  populousnesa  and  extent  of  his 
territories,  beyond  .those  of  the  other  confederate  kings^ 
appears  from  thertrobps  they  furnished  for  the  siege  of 
Troy,  being  arranged  in  Homer's  catalogue  of  the 
ships  in  two  large  divisions;  the  first  of  eighty  ships 
from  Argos,  and  several  other  places,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Diomede  ;  and  the  second  furnished  by  My- 
cene,  and  the  rest  of  Agamemnon's  domains,  consists 
iag  of  one  hundred  ships,  which  were  commanded  by 
himself  in  person.  The  cities  of  Argos  and  Mycenei 
which  are  at  no  greater  distance  from  each  other  than 
fifty  stadia,  or  about  six  miles  and  a  quarter,  were  both 
built  by  Perseus  and  the  Cyclops ;  but  became,  accord- 
ing to  Strabo,  the  capitals  of  separate  kingdoms,  when 
the  posterity  of  Daiiaus  and  Amythaon  parted  the 
land  into  two  distinct  shares  ;  but  after  the  defeat  and 
death  of  Eurystheus,  Mycene  was  reunited  to  Argos, 
and  when  Agamemnon  succeeded  his  father  Atreus,  he 
enlarged  and  beautified  Mycene  so  much,  that  some 
erroneously  called  him  the  founder  of  that  city.  The 
inaccurate  manner  in  which  Euripides  is  perpetually 
confounding  Argos  and  Mycene,  though  the  dramatic 
scene  of  action  is  confined  to  very  narrow  limits,  has 
not  escaped  the  notice  of  the  Geographers. 

The  unsuccessful  suitors  of  Helen,  who,  if  we  may 
depend  upon  the  list  given  of  them  by  Apoliodorus, 
were  twienty-eight  in  number^  and  all  of  them  the  sons 
of  /G.od^  or  of  Kings,  or  at  least  of  celebrated  Heroes, 


153  HISTORY  OF  THE 

being  summoned  together  by  Menelaus  to  fulfill  the 
solemn  engagement  they  had  entered  into,  collected 
a  great  naval  armament  from  the  various  states  of 
Greece,  and  appointed  to  the  command,  Agamemnon, 
brother  to  the  injured  husband,  and  by  far  thfe  most- 
powerful  monarch  among  the  confederates. 

Before  Agamemnon  sailed  for  Troy,  his  wife  Cly- 
temnestra  had  borne  him  four  children  :  three  of  tbeta 
were  daughters,  Iphigenia,  Chrysothemis,  and  Electra: 
his  only  son,,  Orestes,  was  at  that  time  an  infant  in  his 
nurse's  nrms.  The  confederate  fleet  of  Greece  being 
detained  by  a  dead  calm  at  the  place  of  their  rendez- 
vous, the  haven  of  Aulis,  a  sea-port  in  the  Boeotian 
territories,  the  leaders  of  the  troops  had  recoui'se  to  the 
Oracle,  and  obtained  a  response  from  Calchas  the 
soothsayer,  who,  reminding  Agamemnon  of  a  vow  be 
hctd  formerly  made  to  sacrificie  the  most  beautiful  pro- 
duction of  the  year  to  Diana,  informed  him,  that,  in 
consequence  thereof,  his  daughter  Iphigenia  was  claim- 
ed by  the  Goddess  for  a  victim,  as  being  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  those  who  were  born  that  year,  and  assured 
him  that,  the  fleet  would  remain  moored  in  the  bay  of 
Aulis  till  she  was  offered  up.  The  struggles  between 
paternal  tenderness  and  the  thirst  of  glory  in  Agamem- 
non, the  insidious  stratagems  practised  by  Menelaus, 
urging  him  to  consent  to  the  unnatural  sacrifice  ;  the 
plaints  of  iphigenia  herself,  when  she  first  hears  of  her 
doom^  and  the  heroism  with  which  she  afterwards  con- 
sents to  yield  up  life,  when  she  finds  that  by  dying  she 
shall  conduce  to  the  prosperity  of  her  country,  together 
with  the  indignation  and  resentment  of  her  mother 
Clytemnestra  and  her  lover  Achilles,  all  conspire  to' 
form  one  of  the  most  pathetic  tragedies  of  Euripides. 
When  Iphigenia  was  borne  to  the  altar,  the  wIkjIc 
army  attended  the  moving  spectacle ;  and  after  the 
usual  rites  of  consecration  were  finished,  the  knife  iip- 
peared  to  transpierce'  tloe  bosom  of  the  Princess  :  but 


HOUSE  OF  TANTALUS.  153 

when  they  turned  their  eyes,  they  found  a  Hind  lie 
gasping  on  the  ground,  which  was  substituted  by  Diana 
in  the  room  of  Iphigenia,  who  vanished  frdm  all  eyes, 
and  was  wafted  by  the  Goddess  in  a  cloud  lo  her  temple 
among  the  Scythians  at  Tauris,  where  she  officiated  as 
Priestess,  and  was  constrained  by  the  barbarous  cus- 
toms adopted  in  that  country  to  sacrifice  every  Greek 
who  landed  on  those  inhospitable  shores. 

During  the  siege  of  Troy,  Paris  being  slain  by  the  ar- 
rows of  Philoctetes,  Helen  married  his  Brother  Deipho- 
bus,  who  perished  when  the  city  was  taken,  his  perfidi- 
ous Consort  betraying  him  to  the  Greeks.  Helen  then 
fell  into  the  bands  of  her  first  husband  Menelaus,  who 
was  soon  reconciled  to  her.  Agamemnon  escaped  the 
dangers  of  the  sea,  and  the  fate  of  many  of  his  com- 
rades who  were  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Eubaja, 
being  misguided  by  false  lights  placed  on  the  promon- 
tory of  Caphareus  for  that  purpose  by  Nauplius,  the  Fa- 
ther of  Palamedes,  who  had  been  unjustly  put  to  death 
in  the  Grecian  camp,  through  the  treacherous  contri- 
vances of  Ulysses.  The  liCcider  of  the  confederate 
Grecian  trocJps  reached  Argos  in  triumph,  and  brought 
with  him  his  captive,  the  prophetic  Cassandra,  whom 
he  had  reserved  forhis  concubine,  at  the  division  of  the 
spoils.  Clytemnestra,  already  embittered  against  him 
by  the  murder  of  her  first  Husband  Tantalus,  and  the 
sacrifice  of  Tphigenia,  whom  she  apprehended  to  have 
been  really  slain  at  the  altar,  would  not  brook  this  fresh 
indignity,  but  conspiring  with  her  paramour  -/Egisthni, 
the  son  of  Thyestes,  threw  over  Agamemnon,  as  he  vr^k 
coming  out  of  the  bath,  a  garment  sewed  up  at  the 
neck  and  arms,  and  while  he  was  struggling  in  th6 
folds  of  this  delusive  vest,  smote  him  with  an  axe,  and 
killed  him;  after  which  she  married  the  adulterer 
.Sigisthus,  who  took  possession  of  the  throne. 
^  A  faithful  servant  conveyed  Orestes,  on  his  Father's 
death,  toPbocis,  and  placed  him  under  tlie  protection 


154  HISTORY  OF  THE 

of  Strophrus ;  Electra  remained  at  Argos,  and  was^ivM 
in  marriage  by  the  usurper  to  a  Peasant,  in  order  to  pre* 
vent  her  becoming  the  wife  of  some  man  who  might 
have  had  influence  enough  to  reinstate  the  children  of 
Agamemnon  in  their  hereditary  dominions.  When 
.Orestes  arrived  at  years  of  maturity,  he  repaired  .to  the 
oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi,  which  commanded  him  to 
revenge  his  Father's  death ;  upon  which  be  returned  to 
Argos  in  disguise,  accompanied  by  his  inseparable 
friend  Pylades:  on  their  arrival,  they  were  received  in  a 
cottage,  on  the  confines  of  the  Argive  dominions,  bj 
Electra  and  her  nominal  Husband;  and  learnt  that  the 
Princess  still  remained  a  virgin,  the  Peasant  retaining  a 
strong  attachment  to  Agamemnon's  family,  and  not 
considering  ^gisthus  as  having  any  right  to  give  her  to 
him  in  marriage.  After  a  short  consultation  together, 
they  formed,  and  soon  carried  into  execution,  a  plan  for 
killing  both  ^gisthus  and  Clytemnestra ;  but  no  sooner 
had  Orestes  imbrued  his  hands  in  his  Mother's  blood, 
than  the  Furies  arising  from  hell  haunted  and  drove 
him  to  distraction;  the  citizens  of  Argos  in  the  mean 
time  looking  with  horror  upon  the  action  committed  bj 
him  and  Electra,  refused  to  hold  any  intercourse  with 
such  profane  wretches,  and  -assembled  together  to  pass 
sentence  on  them  six  days  after  Clytemnestra's  death  : 
at  this  period,  Menelaus,  wholiad  been  separated  from 
the  rest  of  the  fleet,  and  experienced  a  most  tedious 
voyage,  having,  according  to  the  account  given  by 
Teucer  in  the  Helen  of  our  Author,  been  seven  years 
in  bi$  return  from  Troy ;  landed  with  Helen  and  his 
few  surviving  friends  at  Nauplia,  a  sea  port  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Argos,  where  he  was  immediately 
apprised  of  the  calamities  which  had  in  his  absence  be- 
fallen his  family:  in  his  interview  with  his  nephew,  the 
unhappy  Orestes,  he  shewed  some  disposition  to  assist 
him,  but  soon  forsook,  and  gave  him  and  his  Sister  up 
to  the  fury  of  the  people,  on  being  told  by  Tyndarusj^ 


HOUSE  OF  TANTALUS.  155 

tliait,  if  he  interfered,  he  should  never  return  to  Sparta, 
the  sovereignty  of  that  country  being  to  devolve  to  Helen 
after  the  deatl^  of  her  aged  Father,  whoiiad  no  longer 
any  son  to  inherit  his  dominions,  both  Castor  and  Pol- 
lux being  translated  to  the  Heavens,  and  become  Stars. 
The  council  of  Argos  having  condemned  Orestesand 
Electra  for  the  murder  of  their  mother,  and  given  them 
the  option  of  putting  themselves  to  death,  they,  after 
some  consultation  with  Py lades,  determined,  as  we  have 
j-ust  scjen  in  the  Tragedy  of  Orestes,   to  revenge  them* 
selves  by  killing  Helen,  and  to  detain  Hermione  as  an 
hostage,    to  constrain    her   Father   to  pardon   thenu 
While  Menelaus  was  vowing  vengeance  against  thcm^ 
for  the  supposed  murder  of  his  Wife,  Mho  had  suddenly 
vanished,  Apollo   descended   to  save  them  both  from 
their  enraged  Uncle  apd  the  Argive  people,  by  giving 
testimony  in  favour  of  Orestes,  that  he  had  acted  in 
pursuance  of  the  Gods'  especial  commands,   by  putting 
bis  Mother  to  death;  but  directed  him,  in  order  to  ex- 
piate the  pollution   he  had   incurred  by  shedding  her 
blood,  to  remain  in  a  stale  of  banishment  for  one  year, 
and  after  that  submit  his  cause  to  thejudgement  of  the 
Are/opagus  at  Athens.     When   Orestes  attended  lliat 
venerable  assembly,  one  of  the  Furies  appeared  as  his 
Accuser,  and  Apollo  was  for  the  second  time  a  witness 
in  his  behalf :    the  votes  for  acquitting  or  condemning 
bim  being  found,  upon  casting  them  up,   to  be  equal, 
Minerva  decided  the  cause  in  his  favour.     The  Furies 
however  continued  lo, persecute  him,  and  he  again  had 
recourse  to  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  who  ordered   him  ttf 
bring  ti:e  statue  of  Dianu  from  Tauris,  and  deposit  it  at 
Athens:  he  accordingly  sailed  on  this  expedition,  ac- 
companied by  his  faithful  friend  and  kinsman  Pylades, 
whom  he  had  previously  affianced  to  his  bister  Electra; 
on  their  landing  they  were  seized  by  the  peasants  of  the 
country,  and  carried  to  Thoas  the  king,  who  consigned 
jthem  l4)  iheir  Sister  Iphi*^ciiia  as  fit  victims  to  bleed  at 


136  HISTORY,    &c. 

the  altar,  where  they  were  on  the  point  of  being  sacri- 
ficed, when  a  recognition  happily  ensued  ;  after  which 
they  all  united  in  conceiting  means  for  their  escape, 
whith  they  with  great  difficulty  eflfected,  and  not  with- 
out the  especial  interposition  of  Minerva;  carrying  away 
their  Sister,  and  the  image  of  the  Goddess  Diana,  to 
whom  Iphigenia,  during  the  remainder  of  her  life,  con- 
tinued to  be  a  Priestess  at  Brauronia,  in  the  Athenian 
territories. 

During  the  misfortunes  of  Orestes,  Menelaus  bestowed 
his  only  Daughter  Hermione  (whom  he  had  promised  in 
marriage  to  his  Nephew)  on  Pyrrhus,  or  (as  Euripides 
and  several  other  writers  call  him)  Neoptolemus,  the  son 
of  Achilles  ;  having  offended  Apollo  by  imputing  to 
him  the  death  of  his  Father,  slain  in  the  temple  of  that 
God  by  the  shafts  of  Paris,  Neoptolemus  went  to  Del- 
phi to  deprecate  his  wrath.  Orestes  at  the  same  time 
went  thither  to  counteract  his  rival,  and  by  artfully  dif- 
fusing rumours  among  the  inhabitants  at  Delphi,  and 
pensuading  them  that  Neoptolemus  came  thitl>er  with 
no  pious  design,  but  in  order  to  plunder  their  temple, 
the  treasures  of  which  were  immense,  caused  them  to 
attack  and  murder  him,  as  he  was  going  unarmed  to 
makci  his  prapitiatoBy  offerings  to  that  Deity.  Having 
contrived  the  death  of  Neoptolemus,  Orestes  came  to 
PhlhiayCarried  off  Hermione,  and  married  her,  and  his 
faithful  comrade  Pylades  was  at  the  same  time  united 
tO'Electra. — The  account  giyen  by  Euripidesof  the  des- 
cendants of  Tantalus  here  x^eases,  leaving  Orestes  in 
tranquil  possession  of  the  united  kingdoms  of  Argos 
»%nd My cene,: reconciled  to  his  Uncle  and  the  citizens^ 
who  had  just  before  sentenced  him  to  die,  and,  pur^ 
suant  to  the  injunction  of  Apollo,  married  to  the  only 
Daughter  of  Menelaus  and  Helen,  the  heirefcs  to  the 
Spartan  dominions*  i  •:  .  .   i     -j 

II.  f./  •  s  $ 


THE 


PHGENICIAN  DAMSELS, 


*n  »X*^  c^Ofjiifvi'  to;  ^  aJKyioL  xaXAtTr  ^tcwaw 


fEftSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA, 


JOCASTA. 
ATTENDANT. 
ANTIGONE, 

CHORUS  OF  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS- 
POLYNICE& 
ETEOCLES. 
CREON. 
MEN^CEUS. 
'TIRESIAS. 
MESSENGER. 
ANOTHER  MESSENGER. 
OEDIPUS. 


SCENE^AN    OPEN   COURT  BEFORE  THE    PALACR 

AT  THEBES. 


-^'•l 


THE 


PHCENICIAN   DAMSELS, 

JOCASTA. 

xJ  Thou,  who  thro'  the  starry  Heavens  divid  st 

Thy  path,  and  on  a  golden  chariot  sitt'st 

Exalted,    radiant  San,  beneath  the  hoofs 

Of  whose  swift  steeds  the  fiery  volumes  roll. 

How  inauspicious,  o'er  the  Theban  race 

Didst  thou  durt  forth  thy  beams,  the  day  when  Cadmus 

Came  to  this  land  from  the  Phoenician  coast; 

He  erst  obtained  Harmonia  for  his  bride. 

Daughter  of  Venus;    of  their  loves  the  fruit 

Was  Polydorus,  and  from  him,  as  fame 

Relates,  descended  Labdacus  the  Sire 

Of  Laius.     From  Menaeceus  I  derive 

My  birth ;  my  Brother  Creon  and  myself 

From  the  same  Mother  spring  :    but  I  am  culJ'd 

Jocasta,  'twas  the  name  my  Father  gave ; 

Me  royal  Laius  married  ;  but  when  long 

Our'  bed  had  prov'd  unfruitful,  he  to  search 

The  oracle  of  Phoebus  went,   and  sued 

To  the  prophetic  God,  that  he  our  house 

Would  cheer  with  an  auspicious  race  of  Sons : 

The  God  replied  ;  ^^  Beware  (1)  O  thou  who  rul'st 

(1)  The  cause  \ifliy  this  curse  was  denounced  agamst  Laius,  though 
here  omitted,  is  expressed  in  the  oracte  given  to  him,  as  preserved  in  the 
Greek  Scholia  to  the  Frogs  of  Aristophanes^  and  prefixed  l^y  Barnes, 
Valkenaer,  and  Dr.  Musgrave,  to  their  editions  of  this  Tragedy. 

Offspring  of  royal  Labdacus,  O  Laius, 

For  an  auspicious  progeny,  to  Heaven 

Suest  thou  ?  on  thee  will  I  bestow  a  Son, 

But  thee  the  Fates  have  doomed  by  that  Son*s  hands 

To  perish :  Pelops*  imprecations  mov'd  ^^   , 

Indignant  Jove,  and  to  the  Sire  whose  child 


ff 


ICO         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

'  Tlie  martial  Thebans,  strive  not  to  obtaia 
'^  A  progeny  against  the  will  of  Heaven: 
^^  If  thou  beget  a  Son,  that  Son  sliall  slay  thee, 
'^  And  all  thy  houseliold  shall  be  plung'd  in  blood. 
He  overcome  by  lust,  and  flushed  with  wine. 
In  an  unguarded  moment  disobey 'd; 
But  I  no  sooner  had  brought  forth  the  child> 
Than  he  grown  conscious  of  his  foul  offence 
Against  Apollo's  mandate,  to  his  shepherds 
The  new-born  infant  gave,  in  Juno's  meads. 
And  on  Cithseron's  Hill,  to  be  expos'd, 
]Viaiming^his  feet  with  pointed  steel,  whence  Greece 
Hath  caird  him  Oedipus.     But  they  who  fed 
The  steeds  of  Polybus,  soon  taking  up 
Conveyed  him  to  their  home,  and  in  the  hands 
Of  their  kind  Mistress  plac'd,  she  at  her  breast 
Nurtur'd  my  Son,   and  artfully  persuaded 
Her  Lord  that  she  was  Mother  to  the  Boy  : 
Soon  as  the  manly  beard  his  check  overspread. 
Aware  from  his  own  knowledge,  or  informed 
Of  the  deceit,  sollicitous  to  learn 
Who  w^ere  his  Parents,  to  Apollo's  shrine 
He  journey 'd;   and  at  the  same  time  was  Laius, 
My  Husband,  hastening  hither,  to  enquire 
Whether  the  child  he  had  expos'd  was  dead. 
In  Phocis,   where  two  sever'd  roads  unite. 
They  met :  the  charioteer  of  Laius  cried 
In  an  imperious  tone;  "  Give  way  to  Kings, 
''  Thou  tStranger  :"  yet  the  silent  youth  advanc'd 
With  inborn  greatness  fir'd,  till  o'er  his  feet 
Distain'd  with  gore  the  steel-hoof 'd  coursers  trod  ; 

Thou  treacherously  didst  steal  a\%-ay,  the  God 
Hath  granted  tliis  irrevocable  boon. 

In  ApoUodonis,  we  meet  with  the  fact  on  which  the  above  verses  are 
founded.  Laius,  after  Laving  been  kindly  entertained  by  Pelops,  was  so 
regardless  of  the  laws  of  hospitality,  as  to  carry  off  Chrysippus,  that 
monarches  natural  son,  who  became  his  charioteer  and  minion. 


THE  PHCENICUN  DAMSELS.         iCl 

Hence  (for  what  need  have  I  to  speak  of  aught 

That's  (2)  foreign  to  my  woes  ?)  th'  unconscious  Son 

Slew  his  own  Father,  seiz*d  the  spoils,  and  gave 

To  Polybus,  who  nurtur'd.him,   the  car. 

But  when  with  ruthless  fangs  the  Sphynx  kid  waste 

The  city,  and  my  Husband  was  no  more. 

My  Brother  Creoh  by  the  herald's  voice 

Proclaimed,  that  whosoever  could  expound 

Th'  aenigma  by  that  crafty  Virgin  forg'd 

Should  win  me  for  his  bride  :  that  mystic  clue 

The  luckless  Oedipus  my  son  unraveFd  ; 

Hence  o'er  this  land  appointed  King,  he  gain'd 

For  his  reward  a  sceptre ;   wretched  youth ! 

Unwittingly  espousing  me  who  bore  him; 

Nor  yet  was  I  his  Mother  then  aware 

That  we  committed  incest.    I  produc'd 

To  my  own  Son  four  children ;  two  were  males, 

£teocles  and  Polynices  fam'd 

For  martial  prowess  ;  daughters  two,  the  one 

Her  Father  call'd  Ismene,  but  the  first 

I  named  Antigone*    Soon  as  he  learn'd 

That  I  whom  he  had  wedded  was  his  Mother^ 

The  miserable  Oedipus,  o'erwhelm'd 

With  woes  accumulated,  from  their  sockets  # 

Tore  with  a  golden  clasp  his  bleeding  eyes. 

But  since  the  beard  o'ershaded  my  Sons'  cheeks, 

T^heir  Sire  they  in  a  dungeon  have  confinM, 

(2)  A3  this  pai^ntfaesfs  in  the  long  narration  of  Jocasta,  iirh^ch  began 
with  speaking  of  remote  events,  and  dedacing  her  genealogy  from  Cad* 
mus  the  founder  of  Thebes,  may  perhaps  appear  to  other  readers,  as  I 
confess  it  does  to  myself,  ill  placed  in  that  part  of  her  speech,  where  sht 
relates  a  fact  so  immediately  interesting  to  her  as  the  death  of  LaiQS,  X  . 
am  induced  to  publish  the  following  manuscript  note  of  the  late  RevetenA 
Stephen  Caesar  de  Missy,  written  with  a  pencil  m  the  margin  of  a  copy  of 
King's  Euripides,  now  m  my  possession :  **  Pro  T«  *i^  legendum  suspicor 
«  TimSk^utsententiasit,  Qatd  oniaie  demaMvimAi  spuses^  dicere?  subm* 
*  intellecta  nimirum  prxpositione  n^ ;  ut  Odyss.  L.  xi.  v.  173.  Ei^t  i» 
**  fjM  iialgof  Tf  xMi  Tifo;  wy  xoliXwiw."  I  havc  howcver  foUowtd  the  yilfft 
xcadiog,  as  I  usoaUy  do  in  dnbiouBiKiliits.  ^2ck^ 

voi;..  1.  •  .    M 


16«         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

The  raeraory  of  this  sad  event  t'  efface. 

For  which  they  needed  every  subtle  art. 

Within  these  mansions  he  still  lives,  but  sick 

With  evil  fortunes,  on  his  Sons  pours  forth 

The  most  unholy  curses,  that  this  house 

They  by  the  sword  may  portion  out.    Alarm'd 

Lest  Heaven  those  vows  accomplish  if  they  dwell 

Together,  they  by  compact  have  resolv'd 

The  younger  Brother  Poly n ices  first 

A  voluntary  exile  shall  depart, 

And,  with  Eteocles  remaining  here 

To  wield  the  sceptre  of  this  realm,  exchange 

His  station  year  by  year :   but  th'  elder-born 

Since  he  was  seated  on  the  lofty  throne 

Departs  not  thence,  and  from  this  land  expelU 

The  injur'd  Polynices,  who,  to  Argos 

Repairing,  with  Adrastus  hath  contracted 

Most  strict  affinitv,  and  hither  brings 

A  numerous  squadron  of  heroic  youths; 

These  bulwarks  for  their  sevenfold  gates  renowned 

E*en  now  in  arms  approaching,  he  demands 

His  Fathei'^s  sceptre,  and  an  equal  share 

Of  the  domain.     But  I  to  end  their  strife, 

On  Polynices  have  prevailed,   to  come 

Under  the  sanction  of  a  warrior's  faith,^ 

And  parly  with  his  Brother,  ere  the  hosts 

In  bcittle  join:  the  messenger  I  sent 

Informs  me  he  the  summons  will  attend. 

O  thou  who  dwell'st  amidst  Heaven  s  lucid  folds. 

Save  us,  dread  Jove,  and  reconcile  my  children : 

For  thou,  if  thou  art  wise,  wilt  ne'er  permit 

That  one  poor  mortal  should  be  always  wretched. 

[Exit  JOCASTA.. 

ANTIGONE,  ATTENDANT.  ^ 

-.  .       .  ATTENDANT. 

'Cfair  Antigone,   illustrious  blossom 
Of  jmr  paternal  house,  since  from  your  chamber 


TH£  PH(£NICIAN  I>AMSm3.         m 

Your  Mother  hath  allowed  yoa  to  come  forth 

At  your  request^  and  from  these  roofs  behold 

The  Argive  hosts^  stay  here,  while  I  the  road 

Explore,  lest  in  our  passage  if  we  meet 

Some  citizen,  malignant  tongues  should  blame 

Both  me  the  servant  who  obey,  and  you 

For  giving  such  command.    But  their  whole  camp 

Since  I  have  search'd,  to  you  will  I  relate 

All  that  these  eyes  have  witness'd,  and  whatever 

I  heard  amidst  the  Argives,  when  cmplo/d 

By  both  your  Brothers,  I  'twixt  either  host 

Bore  pledges  of  their  cc»npact»    But  these  mansions 

JNo  citizen  approaches :  baste,  ascend 

Yon  antient  stairs  of  cedar,  and  overlook 

The  spacious  fields  that  skirt  Ismeno^'  stream. 

And  Dirce's  fountain ;  what  an  host  of  foes ! 

ANTIOONE. 
Thy  aged  arm  stretch  forth,  and  as  I  climb 
The  narrow  height,  my  tottering  steps  sustain. 

ATTENDANT. 

Give  me  your  hand,  for  at  a  lucky  hour 
You  mount  the  turret,  the  Pelasgian  host 
Is  now  in  motion,  and  the  troops  divide. 

ANTIOONB. 

Thou  venerable  Daughter  of  Latona, 
Thrice  sacred  Goddess,  Hecate,  how  gleams 
With  brazen  armour  the  whole  field  around ! 

ATTENDANT. 

For  Polynices  to  his  native  land 
Returns  not  like  a  man  of  little  note. 
But  comes  in  anger  by,  unnumbered  steeds 
Attended,  and  the  loudest  din  of  arms. 

ANTIGONE. 

Are  the  gates  ^los'd  ?  what  baxriers  guard  the  walls 
Rear'd  by  Amphion's  skill? 

ATTENDANT. 

Be  of  good  chear. 

M  2 


164         THE  PHCENICUN  DAMSELS" 

The  city  is  made  safe  within.     But  look 
At  him  who  first  advances^  if  you  wbb 
To  know  him. 

ANTIGONE. 

By  those  snowy  plumes  distinguith'd. 
Before  the  ranks  who  marches  in  the  van, 
With  ease  sustaining  on  his  nervous  arm 
That  brazen  shield  i 

ATTENDANT. 

A  General ;  royal  Maid. 

ANTIGONE. 
Who  is  he  i  in  what  country  was  he  bom. 
Old  Man,  inform  me,  and  what  name  he  beari* 

ATTENDANT. 

Myc?ne  glories  in  the  warrior's  birth. 
But  near  the  marsh  of  Lema  he  resides ; 
His  name's  Hippomedon,  a  mighty  Chief. 

ANTIGONE. 

Ah,  with  what  pride,  how  terrible  an  aspect. 
How  like  an  earthborn  giant,  doth  he  move! 
His  targe  with  stars  is  cover'd,  and  that  air 
Resembles  not  the  feeble  race  of  man. 

ATTENDANT, 

Behold  you  not  the  Chief  who  Dirce's  stream 
Is  crossing! 

ANTIGONE. 

In  what  different  armour  clad ! 
But  who  is  he  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

Tydeus,  the  noble  son 
Of  Oeneus ;  in  embattled  fields  his  breast 
With  true  ^tolian  courage  is  inspir'd. 

ANTIGONE. 

'  Is  he,  O  veteran,  Husband  to  the  Sister 
Of  Polynices'  Consort  ?  how  array'd 
In^party-colour'd  mail,  a  Half-barbarian  I 


\ 


\ 

\ 

THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSE{4r         m 

ATTENDANT. 

(3)  All  the  JEtoIians,  O  my  Daughter^  arm'd 
With  bucklers^  can  expertly  hurl  the  lance*  -  t 

ANTIGONE. 

But  whence,  old  Man^  art  thou  assured  of. this? 

ATTENDANT. 

The  various  figures  wrought  upon  the  shields 
I  notic'd>  at  the  time  I  from  the  walls 
Went  to  your  Brother  with  the  pledge  of  truce : 
When  these  I  see^  their  wearers  well  I  know* 

ANTIGONE. 
But  who  is  he  who  moves  round  Zethus'  tomby 
A  youth  with  streaming  ringlets,  and  with  eyes 
Horribly  glaring  \ 

ATTENDANT. 

He  too  is  a  Chief. 

ANTIGONE. 

What  multitudes  in  burnish'd  armour  clad 
Follow  his  steps  1 

ATTENDANT. 
From  Atalanta  spningi 
Parthenopaeus  is  the  name  he  bears* 

ANTIGONE., 
May  Dian,  who  o'er  craggy  mount^ns  speeds 
Attended  by  his  Mother,  with  her  shafts 
Transpierce  th'  audacious  youth  who  comes  to  sack 
My  city ! 

ATTENDANT. 
These  rash  vows  suppress,  O  Daughter, 
For  they  with  justice  these  domains  invade. 
And  therefore  will  the  Gods  I  fear  discern 
Their  better  cause. 

(3)  '^  The  ^tolians,  living  at  the  extremity  of  Europe,  had  a  mixtore 
*^  of  Greek  and  Barbarian  mannen,  being  all  ciad  in  armour,  and  hurl- 
«<  ing  their  javelins.  For  in  all  probability  at  the  time  of  the  siege  of 
''  Thebes,  the  Greeks  made  use  of  armour;  but  the  Barbananti  w^re 
^  expert  in  throwing  their  spear8|  which  the  Greeks  afterwards  learnt 
If  the  art  of   SC90UAST.  . 


Ji 
I 


166        tH B  ntCENlCIAN  DAMSELS 

ANTIOOKB. 

But  where  is  be,  whom  Fate 
Decreed  in  evil  hour  from  the  same  worab 
With  me  to  spring  ?  Say,  O  thou  dear  old  Manj 
Where's  Polynices  ? 

ATTfiOT>AKf. 

He  beside  the  tomb 
Of  Niobe's  seven  virgin  Daughters  stands 
Close  to  Adrastos.    See  you  him  i 

ANTIGONE* 

I  see  him. 
But  not  distinctly  ;   I  can  just  discern 
A  faint  resemblance  of  that  kindred  form^ 
The  image  of  that  bosom.    Would  to  Heaven, 
Borne  on  the  skirts  of  yonder  passing  cloudj 
Thro'  the  etherial  paths,  I  with  these  feet 
Could  to  my  Brother  urge  my  swift  career  ! 
Then  would  I  fling  my  arms  round  the  dear  neck 
Of  him  who  long  hath  been  a  wretched  exile. 
How  gracefully,  in  golden  arms  array'd 
Bright  as  Hyperion's  radiant  beamsi  he  moves  ! 

ATTENDANT. 

To  fill  your  soul  with  joy,  the  Chief,  these  doors, 
Secur'd  by  an  inviolable  tmce. 
Anon  will  enter. 

ANTIGONE. 

O  thou  aged  man  ; 
But  who  is  he  who  on  yon  chariot,  drawn 
By  milk*white  coursers,  seated,  guides  the  reins  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

The  seer  Amphiareus,  O  royal  Maid ; 
He  bears  the  victims  that  with  crimson  tides 
Must  drench  the  ground. 

ANTIGONE. 

Encircled  with  a  zone  • 
Of  radiance,  O  thou  daughter  of  the  Sun, 
Pale  Moon,  who  from  his  beams  thy  gpldea  orb 


7Iti;'PilCENICIAN  DAMS^JtS.  167 

Illum'st,  behold  with  what  a  steady  thong. 
And  how  discreetly  he  those  coursers  guides  ! 
But  where  is  Capaneus,  who  proudly  utters 
Against  this  city  the  most  horrid  threats  f 

ATTENDANT. 

To  these  seven  turrets  each  approach  he  marks, 
The  walls  from  their  proud  summit  to  their  ba^e 
Measuring  with  eager  eye. 

ANTIGONE. 

Dread  Nemesis^ 
Ye  too,  O  deep-ton*d  thunderbolts  of  Jove, 
And  livid  flames  of  lightning ;  yours,  'tis  yours 
To  blast  such  arrogance.     Is  this  the  man 
Who  vow'd  that  he  the  captive  Theban  Dames 
In  slavery  plung'd,   would  to  Mycene  lead. 
To  Lerna^  where  the  God, of  Ocean  fix'd 
His  trident,  whence  its  waters  bear  the  name 
Of  Amy6ii«  i  but,  O  child  of  Jove, 
Diana,  venerable  Queen,  who  bind'st 
Thy  streaming  tresses  with  a  golden  cawl, 
Never  may  I  endure  the  loathsome  yoke 
Of  servitude. 

ATTENDANT. 

The  royal  mansion  enter, 
O  Dailghter,  and  beneath  its  roof  remain 
In  your  apattment,  since  you  have  indulged 
You-wish,  and  view'd  those  objects  you  desir'd. 
A  tumult  in  the  city  now  prevails  : 
The  women  to  the  palace  rush  in  crowds, 
For  the  whole  female  sex  are  prone  to  slander. 
And  soon  as  they  some  slight  occasion  find, 
On  which  malignant  rupaours  they  can  ground, 
Add  many  more :  for  on  such  baneful  themes 
To  them  is  it  delightftil  to  converse.  [^Exeuntt 


168  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

1. 1. 

Borne  from  Phoenician  (4)  shores  I  crossed  the  deep> 
My  tender  years  to  Phoebus  they  consign 
To  spriqkle  incense  on  his  shrine^ 
And  dwell  beneath  Parnassus'  steep 
Cerspread  with  everlasting  snow  : 
Our  dashing  oars  were  plied  in  haste 
^'^tifro*  the  Ionian  wave,  whose  eddies  flow 
-'Ibound  Sicily's  inhospitable  waste  (5); 
^  Then  vernal  Zephyrs  breath'd,  our  sails  around^ 

'^;.  ;   And  Heaven's  high-vaulted  roof  ponvey'd  the  munpur- 

ing  sound. 


^)  The  original  expression,  ^vurnis  an  yan  is  rendered  in  the 
Wsions  Phcenissa  ab  insnlft,  which  has  given  rise  to  a  variety  of  conjec- 
tnres.    The  autlior  of  the  Greek  paraphrase  qualifies  the  term  hy  that  of 
Xfffotnnt,  and  Dr.  Musgrave  observes,  that  ntngy  in  the  poets,  sometiniet 
signifies  a  peqinsola,  but  the  reader  will,  by  turning  to  any  map  of  an- 
tient  geography,  find  that  Phoenicia  was  by  no  means  eitiier  an  bbiid  or 
a  Peninsubi,  but  a  part  of  the  Asiatic  continent  extendingitself  fbr  aooo- 
siderable  length  on  the  borders  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.    It  is  not  in* 
probable,  that  this  passage  was  what  Dr.  Shuckford  had  immediately  in 
view,  when  in  a  note  to  his  Connection  of  Sacred  9pd  Prophane  Histoiyy 
Vol.  I.  p.  157.  Sd  edition,  he  speaks  of  the  Antients  calling  such  coon* 
tries  Isles  as  bordered  on  the  Sea,  though  they  were  natty  part  of  the 
continent,  especially  if  they  usually  siiiled  to  them.    But  the  Phoenicim 
Island,  jBays  the  Scholiast,  i3  by  some  understood  to  mean  Tyre^  and  if  ao^ 
the  term  itung  will  by  no  means  stand  in  need  of  any  qualification,  as  the 
junction  of  Tyre  to  the  continent,  which  rendered  it  a  peninsula,  was  ti^ 
fected  by  Alexander  the  Great,  at  a  period  subsequent  not  only  Ur  tlie 
days  of  Oedipus,  but  also  to  those  of  Euripides.    But  Valkenaer  ^yn- 
cludes  his  note  on  the  passage  by  observing,  that  tiie  silence  of  the  an* 
tient  writers  m  regard  to  what  city  of  Phoenicia  was  then  taken,  of  virhich 
the  Damsels  composing  the  Chorus  might  be  considered  by  the  Poet  aa 
tlie  chosen  spoils,  has  rendered  all  our  enquiries  on  the  subject  inefiectoaL 

(5)  *'  In  Sicily  being  called  barren,  which  at  that  time  was  in|>abited 
«  by  the  Cyclops,  unacquainted  with  the  art  of  sowipg  com,  there  is  no 
^*  great  improbability :  at  least  every  one  acknowledges,  that  tlie  fielda 
"  which  lie  close  to  the  sea-shore,  for  the  piost  part  produce  no 
**  crops/'       Piers. 


TKE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSE^.  l6» 

.  I.  2. 
A  chosen  offering  to  the  Delphic  God^ 
I  from  my  native  city,  to  this  land 

Where  aged  Cadmus  bore  command. 
Am  come^  obedient  to  the  nod 
Of  those  who  from  Agenor  spring, 
'  To  the  proud  towers  of  Laius'  race. 
Our  kindred  governed  by  a  kindred  king. 
Here  stand  I,  like  an  image  on  its  base, 
Tho'  destin'd  to  partake  refin'd  delights. 
Bathe  in  Castalia's  stream,  and  tend  Apollo's  rites* 

III. 

O  mountain,  from  whose  cloven  height. 

There  darts  a  double  stream  of  light. 
Oft  pn  thy  topmost  ridge  the  Menaides  are  seen. 
And  thou,  each  day  distilling  generous  wine, 
O  plant  of  Bacchus,  whose  ripe  clusters  shine, 

Blnsbiog  thro'  the  leafs  faint  green; 

Ye  caves,  in  which  the  Python  lay. 
And  hills,  from  whence  Apollo  twang'd  his  bow. 

Around  your  heights  o'erspread  with  snow, 
'Midst  n!iy  lov'd  virgin  comrades  may  I  stray. 
Each  anxious  fear  expelling  Irpm  my  breast, 
In  the  world's  center,  that  auspicious  fw^ 

The  residence  of  Phcebus  blest. 

And  bid  ^ieu  to  Dirce's  plain. . 

!!•  1. 
Bui  now  before  these  walls  doth  Mars  advance, 
^nd  brandish  slaughter's  flaiiiing  torch  around; 
May  Thebes  ne'er  feel  the  tlireaten*d  wound, 
For  to  a  friend  bis  friend's  miscfaaDce 
Is  grievous  as  his  own :  each  ill 
That  lights  upon  these  sevenfold  towers. 
With  equal  woe  Phoenicia's  realm  muBt  fill : 
For  Thebes  I  mourn  ;  since  of  one  blood  with  ours 
From  lo's  loves  this  nation  dates  its  birth. 
Those  sorrpws  I  partake  which  vex  my  kindred  earth. 


170         TH£  PHCENICIAN  DAUSESS. 

11,  2. 

Thick  as  a  wintry  cloud  that  phalanx  stands^ 
Whose  gleaming  shields  portend  the  bloody  figlit. 
The  God  of  War  with  stern  delight, 
Shall  to  the  siege  those  hostile  bands 
Lead  on^  and  rouse  the  Fiends  to  smite 
The  race  of  an  incestuous  bed : 
Much,  O  Pelasgian  Argos,  much  thy  might, 
And  more  the  vengeance  of  the  Gods  I  dread  ; 
For  arm'd  with  justice  on  his  native  land 
HuAes  that  banish'd  youth,  the  sceptre  to  demand. 

PGLYNICES,  CHORUS. 

POLYNICES. 

They  who  were  station'd  to  observe  the  gates^ 
Unbait^d  them,  and  with  courtesy  receiv'd  me 
As  I  the  fortress  entered  :  hence  I  fear 
Lest  now  they  in  their  wily  toils  have  caught 
They  should  detain^  and  slay  me ;  I  with  eyes 
Most  vigilant  must  therefore  look  around 
To  guard  'gainst  treachery :  but  the  sword  which  arms 
This  hand  shall  give  me  courage.    Ho!  who's  tbei^  ? 
Doth  a  mere  sound  alarm  me  i    All  things  seem^ 
E'en  to  the  bravest,  dreadful^  when  they  march 
O'er  hostile  ground*     I  in  my  Mother  plac'd 
Firm  confidence,  yet  hardly  can  I  trust 
Her  who  on  me  prevail'd  t'  accept  the  pledge^ 
And  hither  com€^    But  I  have  near  at  hand 
A  sure  asylum^  for  the  blazing  altars 
Are  not  remote^  nor  yet  is  yonder  house 
Without  inhabitants.    Be  sheath'd  my  sword. 
Those  courteous  Nymphs  who  at  the  portals  stand 
I'll  question.    O  ye  foreign  Damsels^  say. 
What  was  the  country  whence  to  Greece  ye  came  ^ 

CHORUS. 

Phcenicia  is  my  native  land,  I  there 
Was  nurtured:  but  Agenor's  martial  racej 


TttE  PHfENICIAN  DAMSfeLS.  171 

Me,  the  first  fruit  of  their  victorious  arms, 

A  votive  oflFering  to  Apollo  sent, 

But  to  the  venerable  prophetic  domes. 

And  blazing  shrines  of  Phoebus,  when  Ihe  Son 

Of  Oedipus  prepared  to  have  convey'd  me. 

The  Argives  'gainst  this  city  led  their  host. 

Now  in  return  inform  me  who  thou  art. 

Who  com'st  to  Thebe^  o'er  whose  seven  gates  are  rear'd 

As  many  turrets, 

POLYNICES. 

Oedipus,  the  son 
Of  Lai  US,  was  my  Sire:  Menaeceus'  Daughter 
Jocasta  brought  me  forth;  the  name  I  bear 
Is  Polvnices. 

CHORUS, 
O,  illustrious  King, 
Thou  kinsman  to  Agenor's  race,  my  lords 
By  whom  I  was  sent  hither,  at  thy  feet, 
I  as  the  usage  of  my  countiy  bids 
Prostrate  myself.    Thou  to  thy  native  land 
After  a  tedious  absence  art  returned. 
But  ho!  come  forth,  thou  venerable  Dame, 
Open  the  doors;  O  Mother  of  the  Chief, 
Hear'bt  thou  my  voice?  why  yet  dost  thou  delay 
To  cross  the  lofty  palace,  and  with  speed 
In  those  fond  arms  thy  dearest  son  infold? 

JOCASTA,  POLYNICES,  CHORUS. 

JOCASTA. 
Within  the  palace,  O  Phoenician  nymphs, 
Hearing  your  voice,  I  with  a  tardy  step 
Trembling  thro'  age,  creep  hither.     O  my  Son, 
At  length,  I  after  m^ny  days,  once  more 
Behold  that  face:  fling,  fling  those  arms  around 
The  bosom  of  your  Mother ;   those  lov*d  cheeks 
Let  me  embrace,  atid  with  your  azvre  tresses 
My  neck  o'ershadowing,  tnix  my  streaming  hair. 


172 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 


To  these  maternal  arms  you  scarce  return. 
Till  hope  and  expectation  both  had  fail'd. 

0  how  shall  I  accost  you,  how  impart 

To  my  whole  frame  the  transports  of  my  soul. 

And  all  around  me,  wheresoe'er  I  turn. 

Bid  pleasures  past,  and  distant  years  revive  i 

My  Son,  you  left  this  mansion  of  your  Sire 

A  desert,  by  your  haughty  Brother  wrong'd 

And  exii'd  from  your  counti-y.     By  each  friend 

How  greatly  hath  your  absence  been  bewail'd ! 

How  greatly  by  all  Thebes !  My  hoary  locks 

Hence  did  I  sever  from  this  aged  head. 

Hence  weeping  utter  many  piteous  uOtes,  ' 

And,  O  my  Son,  the  tissued  robes  of  white 

Which  erst  I  wore,  exchange  for  sable  weeds. 

These  loath'd  habiliments.     Within  the  palace 

Your  Father  pf  his  eyesight  reft,  bewails 

The  disunited  pillars  of  his  house  ; 

Resolv'd  to  slay  himself,  he  sometimes  strives 

To  rush  on  the  drawn  sword ;  then  searches  round 

For  the  high  beam  to  fix  the  gliding  noose. 

Groaning  forth  imprecations  'gainst  his  Son  ; 

Thus  uttering  with  shrill  tone  his  clamorous  plaints,    , 

He  lives  encompass'd  by  perpetual  night. 

But,  ah !  my  Spn,  by  wedlock's  strictest  bonds 

United,  I  am  tpld  that  you  enjoy 

A  foreign  Consort,  in  a  foreign  realm. 

To  vex  your  Mother'  soul  and  the  stern  ghost" 

Of  Laius;  on  such  ill-assorted  nuptials 

Curses  attend.    The  (6)  Hymeneal  torch 

1  kindled  not,  to  grace  your  spousal  rites. 
As  custom  hath  ordain'd,  and  it  behoves 
A  hapipy  Mother :  nor  his  cooling  stream 
To  fill  the  laver  did  Ismenos  yield  ; 

Nor  on  th'  airival  of  thy  royal  Bride 

(6)  ^  ItvasciKrtoiiwiyfor  the  Bride  to  be  condocted  by  tbe  motber 
**  of  tbe  bridegroom  bearing  a  kindled  torcb.*    Sckouast^ 


.N 


THE  PHOSNICIAN  DAliSBLS.  175 

Thro'  Thebes  were  festive  acclamations  heard. 
*  Perish  the  cause  of  this  unnatural  war^ 
Be  it  or  sword/ or  discord^  of  your  Sire^ 
Or  Fate,  whose  horrors  revel  in  the  house 
Of  Oedipus :  for  these  disasters  sting 
My  soul  with  anguish. 

CHORUS. 

Great  endearments  rise 
From  pangs  maternal,  and  all  women  love 
Their  progeny. 

POLYNICES. 

Amidst  my  foes  I  come, 

0  Mother,  whether  wisely  or  unwisely, 

Great  are  my  doubts  :  but  all  men  are  constrain  d 

To  love  their  country.    He  who  argues  aught 

Against  a  truth  so  clear,  in  empty  words 

Takes  pleasure,  while  his  heart  confutes  his  tongue. 

Yet  with  such  panic  terror  was  I  seiz'd, 

Lest  by  some  stratagem  my  Brother  slay  nie. 

That  bearing  a  drawn  falchion  in  my  hand, 

1  cast  my  eyes  around  on  every  side 
As  I  the  city  travers'd  :  my  sole  trust 

Is  in  the  truce  he  swore  to,  and  thy  faith 
Which  led  me  to  this  mansion  x>f  my  Sire  : 
Yet  as  I  came,  full  many  a  tear  I  shed. 
After  long  absence,  to  behold  the  palace. 
The  sacred  altars  of  the  Gods,  that  ring 
.  Where  wrestlers  strive,  scene  of  my  youthful  sports, 
And  Dirce's  fountain.     Hence  .unjustly  driven, 
I  in  a  foreign  city  dwell,  and  steep 
These  eyes  in  tears  incessant.     But  to  add 
Grief  to  my  griefs,  thee  with  thy  tresses  shorn 
I  see,  and  in  a  sable  vest  array'd. 
Wretch  that  I  am !  how  dreadful  and  bow  hard 
To  reconcile,  is  enmity  'twixt  those 
Of  the  same  house,  O  Mother.    But  how  fares 
My  aged  Sire  within,  whose  eyes  are  clos'd 


174  THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSBI^. 

In  total  darkness?  how,  my  Sisters  twaio^ 
Bewail  they  not  their  exil'd  Brother's  fate? 

JOCASTA, 
Some  God  hath  smitten  the  devotee^  house 
Of  Oedipus.     I  first  'gainst  Heaven's  deprees 
Brought  forth  a  Son^  and  in  an  evil  hour 
Wedded  that  Son  to  whom  you  owe  your  birth. 
But  wherefore  should  I  dwell  upon  these  scenes 
Of  horror  ?  it  behoves  us  to  bear  up 
Under  the  woes  inflicted  by  the  Gods. 
How  shall  I  ask  the  questions  which  I  wish  ? 
Fearing  to  wound  your  soul,  yet  to  propose  them> 
(7)  Is  my  desire  most  urgent. 

POLYNICE8. 

Question  me, 
Leave  nought  unsaid  :  for,  O  my  dearest  Mother^ 
Whatever  is  thy  pleasure,  will  to  me 
Seem  grateful. 

JOCASTA. 

With  what  most  I  wish  to  know. 
Will  I  begin  my  questions^     Is  not  exile 
A  grievous  ill  ? 

POLYNICES. 

Most  grievous,  and  indeed 
Worse  than  in  name. 

JOCASTA. 

How  happens  this?  whence  rises. 
The  miseiy  of  the  banished  man  ? 

-POLYNICES. 

He's  subject 

(?)  <<  E\nK'jBa  is  the  reading  of  the  maniucripts  I  hav?  consulted,  i^ 
^'  wliich  I  apprehend  they  all  concm*  without  any  variation  ;  the  Oxford 
''  edition  ougiit  not  to  have  retained  the  blunder  of  e>>^a;,  the  origin 
'<  of  which  VaUEjenaer  has  traced  firom  Hervaghis."  Brvncx*  I  do 
not  proceed  with  a  translation  ^f  Bxunck's  censures  on  Hervagius,  who 
printed  tiie  word  right  in  h»^rst  edition,  Biuil  1537,  though  not  in  those 
of  1544  and  1551. 


To  one  severe  calamity,  be  wants 
freedom  of  speech.. 

JOCASTA.  T 

The- wretch  of  whom  you  talk^ 
Who  utters  not  his  thoughts,  is  but  a  slave. 

POLYNICES.  ' 

The  follies  of  their  rulers  they  must  bear. 

JOCASTA. 

This  were  a  pil^ous  doom,  to  be  constrained 
To  rtoitate  th' unwise.  ...  7 

POLYNICES. 

If  gain  ensue, 
We  must  submit,'  tho'  nature's  voice  forbid.  '  \ 

JOCASTA. 

Hopes,  it  is  said,  the  hungry  exile  feed* 

POLYNICES.  -^ 

With  smiles  they  view  him,  but  are  slow  to  aid« 

JOCASTA. 

Doth  not  Time  prove  their  falshood  i  I 

POLYNICE& 

They  possess 
An  influence  equal  to  the  Queen  of  Love ;        *  * 

They  banish  every  sorrow  from  the  breast. 

JOCASTA. 

But  whence  procured  you  food,  ere  you  obtain'^l 
A  sustenance  by  wedlock  f 

POLYNICES. 

For  the  day 
At  times  I  had  sufficient,  but  at  times 
Was  wholly  destitute. 

JOCASTA.  ^ 

Your  father's  friends. 
And  they  who  shar'd  his  hospitable  board, 
Did  they  not  aid  you  ?  " 

POLtNICES: 

B^  thou  ever  blest! 
For  he  who  is  unhappy  hatb  no  friend.         '  **  " 


176         THE  PHOENICTAT^  DAMSEIS: 

JOCASTA, 

But  did  not  vour  illustrious  birth  advance  you 
To  some  exalted  station  ? 

POLYNICES. 

A  great  curse 
Is  poverty :  this  high  descent  with  food 
Supplied  me  not. 

JOCASTA. 

To  all  mankind  it  seems 
Their  native  land's  most  dear. 

POLYNICES. 

Words  have  nX)t  power 
T'  express  what  love  I  for  my  country  feel. 

JOCASTA. 

But  why  to  Argos  went  you,  what  design 
Had  you  then  form'd  ? 

POLYNICES. 

Apollo  to  Adrastus 
Pronounc'd  a  ceitain  oracle. 

JOCASTA. 

What  mean  you  ? 
I  cannot  comprehend. 

POLYNICES. 

That  he  in  wedlock 
Should  join  his  Daughters  to  the  boar  and  lion. 

JOCASTA. 

How  did  the  names  of  these  ferocious  beasts 
Relate  to  you,  my  Son  ? 

POLYNICES. 

I  cannot  tell. 

To  this  adventure  was  I  calPd  by  Fortune.    . 

JOCASTA. 

That  Goddess  is  discreet :  but  by  what  means 
Did  you  obtain  your  Consort  i 

POLYNICES. 

It  was  nigh 
When  to  Adrastus'  vestibule  I  came. 


THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS.  177 

JOCASTA. 

To  seek  your  lodging  like  a  banished  vagrant  ? 

POLYNICES. 

E'en  so :  and  there  I  met  another  exile* 

JOCASTA. 

Who  was  he  ?  him  most  wretched  too  I  deem. 

POLYNICES. 

Tydeus,  the  son  of  Oeneus,  I  am  told. 

JOCASTA. 

But  wherefore  did  Adrastus  to  wild  beasts 
Compare  you  ? 

POLYNICES. 

(8)  From  our  fighting  for  a  den. 

JOCASTA. 

Did  then  the  Son  of  Talaus  thus  expound 
The  oracles  ? 

POLYNICES. 

And  on  us  two  bestow'd 
His  daughters. 

JOCASTA. 

But  have  these  espousals  prov*d 
Happy,  or  inauspicious? 

POLYNICES. 
I  have  found 
No  reason  yet  to  curse  the  day  I  wedded. 

(8)  **  Statins  paints  Tydens  and  Polynices  as  fighting  for  a  bed  which 
^  Tydens  attempted  to  enter,  not  knowing  that  it  was  already  occupied 
<<  by  Polynices.  Adrastus  came  up  and  se|>arated  them,  and,  as  they 
**  were  entering  the  pa^ce,  beheld  Polynices  clad  in  the  terrific  hide  of 
^  a  Lion  with  its  shaggy  mane,  and  the  bristies  and  tusks  of  the  Boar  of 
**  Calydon  extended  over  the  broad  shoulders  of  Tydeus.  The  old  man, 
^  struck  with  astonishment  at  the  omen,  perceived  the  accomplishment 
^*  of  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  which  had  marked  out  to  hun  his  future  sous- 
ed in4aw  under  the  appellation  of  these  two  wild  beasts.  Hdw  much 
<^  more  probable  is  this  than  the  account  of  Euripides !  to  me,  I  must 
'^  confess  the  reason  assigned  by  the  Tragic  Poet  appeal*  extremely 

"  flat."    VAUUDlABiU 

VOL.  J.  N 


•  y 


176         THE  PH(£NICUN  DAMSfiliS. 

JOCASTA. 
Yet  how  prevaird  you  on  a  foreign  host 
-Hither  to  follow  you  ? 

POLYNICES. 

Adrastus  sware 
To  Tydeus  and  myself,  his  sons-in-law^ 
(Who  now  by  strict  affinity  are  join'd) 
That  both  of  us,  he  in  our  native  realms 
Will  reinstate,  but  Polynices  first. 
Unnumber'd  Argives,  and  Mycene's  chiefs 
Crowd  to  my  banners,  a  lamented  succour. 
But  such  as  stern  necessity  demands. 
Affording :  for  my  country  I  invade. 
Yet  witness  for  me,  O  ye  righteous  Gods, 
'Tis  with  reluctance  that  I  wield  the  spear 
Against  my  dearest  parents.     But  to  thee, 
O  Mother,  it  belongs  to  end  this  strife. 
To  reconcile  two  Brothers,  and  to  cause 
My  toils,  and  thine,  and  those  of  Thebes,  to  cease. 
Indulge  me  while  I  quote  an  antient  maxim  ; 
"  Of  human  honours.  Riches  are  the  source, 
'*  And  rule  with  power  supreme  the  tribes  of  men  ;" 
In  quest  of  wealth  I  hither  come,  and  lead 
Unnumber'd  squadrons  to  the  dubious  field. 
For  indigent  nobility  is  scorn 'd, 

CHORUS. 

But  lo  Eteocles  himself  repairs. 
To  the  appointed  conference.     In  such  terms 
As  may  restore  peace  'twixt  thy  Sons,  be  thine, 
Jocasta,  the  maternal  task  t'  address  them. 

ETEOCLES,  POLYNICES,  JOCASTA,  CHORUS. 

ETEOCLES. 
With  your  request,  O  Mother,  to  comply. 
Hither  1  come  :  but  what  must  now  be  done? 
I,et  others  speak  before  me.     For  the  squadrons 
i  round  the  walls  have  marshall'd,  and  rest^ain'd 


THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS.  179 

The  ardor  of  the  city,  till  I  hear 

What  terms  of  peace  you  would  propose,  what  views 

Within  these  walls  induc'd'you  to  receive 

My  Brother,  by  the  public  feith  secured. 

Extorting  my  consent. 

JOCASTA. 

Yet  pause  awhile ; 
For  haste  is  incompatible  with  justice : 
But  slow  deliberations  oft  effect 
Such  schemes  as  wisdom  dictates.     Lay  aside 
Those  threatening  looks,  that  vehemence  of  soul ; 
For  thou  behold'st  not  the  terrific  head 
Lopp'd  from  Medusa's  shoulders  :  but  behold'st 
Thy  Brother  coming.— Your  benignant  eyes, 
O  Polynices,  on  your  Brother  turn. 
For  while  you  look  upon  that  kindred  face 
You  will  speaks  better,  and  his  words  receive 
With  more  advantage*     Fain  would  I  suggest 
One  act  of  wholesome  prudence  to  you  both  ; 
An  anger'd  friend,  when  with  his  friend  he  m,eets. 
Should  at  such  interview  attend  to  nought 
But  those  pacific  schemes  on  which  he  came, 
Their  antient  broils  forgetting.     'Tis  incumbent 
On  you,  O  Polynices,  to  speak  first, 
Because  complaining  of  great  wrongs,  you  lead 
An  Argive  army  hither.     May  some  God 
Judge  'twixt  my  Sons,  and  reconcile  their  strife  ! 

POLYNICES. 

Plain  are  the  words  of  truth,  and  Justice  needs 
No  subtlety  t*  interpret ;  for  it  be^rs 
Enough  to  recommend  it:  but  Injustice, 
Devoid  of  all  internal  worth,  requires 
Each  specious  art.     Mj^  Father  s  house,  my  interests. 
His  also,  I  consuked  :  and  the  curse 
Which  Oedipus  had  erst  pronounc'd  against  us. 
Anxious  to  shun,  from  these  domains  retired 

N  -2 


.Jt.      ^ 


180  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

A  voluntciry  exile,  and  to  Him 
Surrendered  up  the  sceptre  for  one  year. 
That  in  my  turn  I  might  be  King,  nor  come 
With  enmity  and  slaughter  in  my  train. 
Those  mischiefs  which  from  discord  must  ensue 
To  act  or  suffer.     He,  who  to  these  terms 
Assented,  and  for  sanctions  of  his  oath 
Invok'd  the  Godsj  hath  not  accomplished  aught 
Of  his  engagements,  but  still  keeps  the  throne. 
And  u'er  my  portion  of  our  Father's  realm 
Without  a  colleague  reigns.     r>  on  receiving 
My  rights,  e'en  now  am  ready,  from  this  land 
To  send  the  troops,  and  in  my  palace  rule     - 
For  an  appointed  time,  then  yield  again 
The  empire  to  my  Brother,  nor  lay  waste 
My  country,  nor  the  scaling-ladder  plant 
Against  yon  turrets  :   yet  will  I  attempt 
To  do  all  this,  if  justice  be  denied  me. 
I  call  the  Gods  to  witness  ^hese  assertions : 
That  tho'  each  solemn  contract  on  my  part 
Hath  been  performed,  I  from  my  native  lend 
By  lawless  force  am  driven.     I  have  collected 
No.  specious  words,  O  Mother,  to  adorn 
Truths  which  with  equal  force  must  strike  the  wise 
And  the  illiterate,  if  I  judge  aright. 

CHORUS. 

To  me,  although  I  in  a  Grecian  realm 
Have  not  been  nurtur'd,  thou  appear'st  to  speak 
With  much  discretion. 

ETEOCLES. 
If,  in  their  ideas 
Of  excellence  and  wisdom,  all  concurred, 
No  strife  had  e'er  perplex'd  the  human  race. 
But  now,  %mong  the  tribes  of  men,  are  Fit, 
And  Right,  and  fair  Equality,  mere  names. 
In  real  life  no  longer  to  be  found. 
To  you,  O  Mother,  I  without  concealment 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.  181 

Will  speak  my  sentiments ;  (9)  I  would  ascend 
The  starry  paths  whence  bursts  the  orient  Sun, 
And  plunge  beneath  the  central  earth,  to  win 

(9)  The  late  Bisliop  Warburton,  and  other  modem  Critics,  having 
particularly  noticed  the  resemblance  between  this  passage  and  the  fol- 
lowing lines  in  tlie  first  part  of  Shalvcspeare*s  Henry  the  Fourth, 

"  By  heav'n  methinks  it  were  aneasie  leap, 

'**  To  pluck  brisfht  Honour  from  the  pale-fac'd  moon, 

."  Or  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 

"  Where  fitdom-line  could  never  touch  the  ground, 

"  And  pluck  np  drowned  Honour  by  tlie  locks, 

"  So  he  that  could  redeem  her  tlience  might  wear 

"  Without  co-rival  all  her  dignities. 

"  But  out  upon  this  lialf-pac'd  fellowship  r 

it  being  generally  supposed,  that  Shakcspeaie  was  an  utter  stranger  to 
the  Greek,  and  had  very  little  knowledge  of  the  Latin  language;  it  may 
not  be  unacceptable  to  tlie  reader,  to  see  the  French  and  English 
tran^tions  of  the  correspondent  lines  extant  at  the  time  he  wrote  :'the 
former  I  have  extracted  from  the  quotation  of  it  in  Plutarch's  treatise  on 
Fraternal  Love,  as  it  stands  in  Amyott's  version  of  that  author's  works, 
printed  at  Paris  iu  1574. 

"  Jc  monterois  en  Tcstoill^  sejour 
**  Du  clair  Solliell  ou  commence  Je  jour, 
"  Et  descendrois  dessoubs  la  tcrre  basse, 
^<  Sije  poavois  acqncrir  par  audace 
"  La  Royaut^  souveraine  des  Dieux." 

In  the  English,  which  is  rendered  with  fi  very  inferior  degree  of  succfss, 
the  spirit,  and  even  tlie  meaning,  of  the  original  have  in  a  gr^at  m^easure 
perished. 

"  If  I  could  rule  or  raignc  in  heaven  above, 
"  And  eeke  command  in  deptli  of  darksome  hell, 
"  No  toil  ne  travel  shoul  my  sprites  abashc, 
"  To  take  the  way  unto  my  restless  will 
"  To  cUmbe  aloft,  nor  down  for  to  descend.*' 

The  edition  of  Mr.  George  Gascoigne*s  works,  whence  I  transcribed  this, 
bears  date  1675 ;  bwt  the  translation  of  the  Phoenissse,  by  the  tkle  of 
Jocasta,  which  is  the  jomt  production  of  him  and  Mr.  Francis-  Kin- 
velmershe,  is  said  in  tlie  title  to  have  been  presented  by  them  at  Grayes- 
Inne,  in  tlie  year  1566,  and  often  deviates  widely  from  Hke  original  for 
whole  scenes  together. 

<<  Endeavouring  my  dreaded  name  to  raise 

"  Above  the  moon,'* 
occurs  in  Spencer*s  Fairy  Queen,  JU  %  c.  3,  at  Sa« 


182         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

Empire  the  greatest  of  th'  immortal  Powers. 

I  therefore  will  not  yield  up  such  a  good 

To  feiny  other,  but  for  my  own  use 

Retain  it,  O  my  Mother  :  for  of  manhood 

Devoid  is  he  who  tamely  bear^  the  loss 

Of  what  he  prizes  most,  and  in  its  stead 

Accepts  some  mean  exchange.  Yet  more,  it  shames  me 

That  he  who  proudly  comes,  with  arms  to  lay 

Our  country  waste,   his  wishes  should  obtain. 

For  this  would  be  to  Thebes  a  foul  reproach. 
If  trembling  at  Mycehe's  spear,  I  gave 
To  him  my  sceptre.     Thus  array'd  in  mail 
He  ought  not  to  negotiate  terms  of  peace. 
For  all  that  by  the  sword  our  haughty  foes 
Hope  to  exact,  might  gentle  words  procure. 
If  such  his  pleasure,  he  on  other  terms 
Sball^e  permitted  in  this  land  to  dwell  ; 
But  never  can  I  willingly  forego 

^  That  one  great  object,   nor  while  sovereign  power 
Is  yet  within  my  reach,  will  I  e'er  stoop 
To  be  his  vassal :  rather  come,  ye  flames. 
Ye  falchions  ;   let  the  warrior  steed  be  harness'd. 
With  brazen  chariots  cover  all  the  field, 
I  never  will  surrender  up  my  throne. 
(10)  Since  if  we  must  o'erleap  the  narrow  bounds 

(10)  '<  SHetonius  relates,  that  Jalius  Caesar  had  these  verses  fre« 
''  quently  in  bis  mouth.  Cicero  has  translated  them  in  his  Offices,  and 
''  Dionys.  Halicamass.  given  the  purport  of  them.  But  no  man  will  be 
*'  shocked  at  this  speech,  who  observes  that  the  Poet  himself  immedi. 
*' ,  itely  expresses  iiis  disapprobation  of  it,  his  own  opinion  and  ideas  of 
^  ^^  justice  being  usually  ascribed  to  the  Chorus :  which  may  be  observed 
^'  in  a  thousand  passages.  It  becomes  an  imitator  to  put  impious  speeches 
'<  into  the  parts  of  impious  men,  provided  he  consult  the  interests  of  sound 
f'  morality  by  means  of  some  other  personage  of  more  unblemished  cha-* 
^'  racter,  sis  the  Choruses  usually  are.**  Barnes. 
Language  similar  to  this, 

"  Pro  regno  velim 
"  Patriam,  Penates,  Coi\jugem  flammis  dare 
'<  Imperia  pretio  quolibet  constant  bene.** 
is  by  Seneca  put  jHto  the  mouth  of  Pplvnices,  5  ; 


THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS:  183 

Of  justice,  for  an  empire,  ta  transgress 
"Were  glorious;  we  in  every  point  beside 
Are  bound  to  act  as  virtue's  rules  enjoin. 

m     CHORUS. 

No  ornantents  of  speech  to  evil  deeds 
Are  due,  for  Justice  hates  such  borrow'd  charms. 

JOCASTA. 

Believe  me,  O  Eteooles  my  Son, 
Old  age  is  not  by  wretchedness  alone 
Attended :  more  discreetly  than  rash  youth 
Experience  speaks.     Why  dost  thou  woo  Ambition, 
That  most  malignant  Goddess )     O  forbear !     '* 
For  she's  a  foe  to  Justice,  and  hath  entered 
Full  many  a  mansion,  many  a  prosperous  city, 
Nor  left  them  till  in  ruin  she  involves 
All  those  who  harbpur  her :  yet  this  is  she 
.  On  whom  thou  doat'st.    Twere  better,  Q  my  Son, 
To  cultivate  Equality,  who  joins 
Friends,  cities,  heroes  in  one  stedfa&t  league ; 
For  by  the  laws  of  nature,  thro'  the  world 
Equality  was  stablished :  but  the  wealthy 
Finds  in  the  poorer  man  a  constant  foe; 
Hence  bitter  enmity  derives  its  source. 
Equality,  among  the  human  race. 
Measures, .  and  weights,  and  numbers  hath  ordain'd  : 
Both  the  dark  orb  of  night  and  radiant  sun 
Their  annual  circuits  equally  perform ; 
Each,  free  from  envy,  to  the  other  yields 
Alternately  ;  thus  day  and  night  afford 
^  Their  services  to  m^-n.    Yet  wilt  not  thou 
Be  satisfied  to  keep  an  equal  portion 
Of  these  domains,  and  to  thy  Brother  give  ^ 

His  due.    Where  then  is  justice  ?  such  respect 
As  sober  reason  disapproves,  why  pay'st  thou 
To  Empire,  to  oppression  crown'd  with  triumph  ? 
To  be  a  public  spectacle  thou  deem'st  ,^ 

Wer^  honpurable.    'Tis  but  empty  pride. 


1S4         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

When  thou  hast  much  already,  why  submit 

To  toils  unnumber'd  ?  what's  superfluous  wealth. 

But  a  mere  name  ?    Sufficient  to  the  wise 

Is  competence  :  ^  for  man  possesses  nought 

Which  he  can  call  his  own,    Tho*  for  a  time 

What  bounty  the  indulgent  Gods  bestow 

We  manage^  they  resume  it  at  their  will ; 

Unstable  riches  vanish  in  a  day. 

Should  I  to  thee  th'  alternatiTe  propose 

Either  to  reign,  or  save  thy  native  land, 

Could'st  thou  reply,  that  thou  hadst  rather  reign  f 

But  if  he  conquer,  and  the  Argive  spears 

Overpower  the  squadrons  who  from  Cadmus  spring,    . 

Thou  wilt  behold  Thebes  taken,  wilt  behold 

Our  captive  virgins  ravish'd  by  the  foe  : 

That  empire  which  thou  seek'st,  will  prove  the  baae 

Of  thy  lov'd  country;  yet  thou  still  persist'st 

In  mischievous  ambition's  wild  career. 

Thus  far  to  thee.*-And  now  to  you  I  speak, 

O  Polynices ;  favpurs  most  unwise 

Are  those  Adrastus  hath  on  you  bestow'd. 

And  with  misjudging  fury  are  ypu  come 

To  spread  dire  havoc  o'er  your  native  land. 

If  you  (which  may  the  righteous  Gods  avert!) 

This  city  take,  how  will  you  rear  the  trophies 

Of  such  a  battle  ?  how,  when  you  have  laid 

Your  country  waste,  th'  initiatory  rites 

Perform,  and  slay  the  victims  ?  on  the  banks 

Of  Inachus  displayed,  with  what  inscription 

Adorn  the  spoils  ?  ^^  From  blazing  Thebes  these  shields 

''  Hath  Polyntces  won,  and  to  the  Gods 

"  Pevoted."    Never,  O  my  Son,  thro'  Greece 

May  you  obtain  such  glory.     Bat  if  you 

Are  vanq^uish'd ,  and  Eteocles  prevail ; 

To  Argos,  leaving  the  ensanguined  field 

Strewn  with  unnumbered  corses  of  the  slain, 

Jtlow  can  you  flee  for  succour?  'twill  be  8ai4 


Vi 


THE  PHCBNICIAN  DAIfSBLS.         i$5 

By  some  malignant  tongue;  **  A  curst  alliance 

*' Js  this  which,  O  Adrastus^  thou  hast  form'd: 

'^  We  to  the  nuptials  of  one  virgin  owe 

*'  Our  ruin."    You  are  hastening,  O  my  Son, 

Into  a  twofold  mischief:  losing  all 

That  you  attempt,  and  causing  your  brave  friends  j 

To  perish.     O  my  Sons,  this  wild  excess 

Of  rage,  with  joint  concurrence,  lay  aside. 

By  equal  folly  when  two  chiefs  inspired. 

To  battle  rush,  dire  mischief  must  ensue. 

CHORUS. 

Avett  these  woes,  and  reconcile  the  sons 
Of  Oedipus,  ye  Gods. 

ETEOCLES. 

No  strife  of  words 
Is  ours,  O  Mother ;  we  but  waste  the  time^ 
And  all  your  care  avails  not.    For  no  peac^ 
Gan  we  conclude  on  any  other  terms 
Than  those  already  nain'd,  that  I,  still  wielding 
The  sceptre,  shall  be  monarch  of  this  land  : 
Then  leave  me  to  myself,  and  cease  to  urge 
These  tedious  admonitions.     As  for  thee, 
O  Polynices,  from  these  walls  depart. 
Or  thou  shaltdie. 

POX-YNipES. 

By  whom  ?  who  can  be  found 
Invulnerable  enough,  with  reeking  sword 
To  strike  me  dead,  yet  *scape  the  self-same  fate? 

15TE0CLES. 
Beside  thee,  and  not  distant  far  he  stands. 
Seest  thou  this  arm  ? 

POLYNICES. 

I  see  it :  but  wealth  makes 
Its  owners  timid,  and  too  fond  of  liie.         ^ 

£T£OCI£$. 

Art  thou  come  hiiher  with  a  numerous  host 
^Gainst  him  thou  count'st  a  dasUrd  in  the  field  P 


186  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELK 

POLYNICES. 

A  cautious  general's  better  than  a  bold. 

ETEOCLES. 

Thou  on  that  compact,  which  preserves  tl^y  life>   * 
Too  haughtily  presum^st. 

POLYNICES- 

Again  I  claim 
The  sceptre  and  my  portion  of  this  realm* 

ETEOCLES. 

Ill-founded  is  thy  claim,  for  I  will  dwell 
In  my  own  house. 

POLYNICES. 

Retaining  to  yourself 
More  than  your  share? 

ETEOCLES. 

'  The  words  which  I  pronounce 

Are  these ;  Depart  thou  from  the  Theban  land. 

POLYNICES. 

Ye  altars  of  my  lov'd  paternal  Gods  — 

ETEOCLES. 

Which  thou  art  come  to  plunder  — 

POLYNICES. 

Hear  ray  voice. 

ETEOCLES. 

What  Deity  will  hear  thee,  'gainst  thy  country 
While  thus  thou  wagest  war  ? 

POLYNICES. 

And  ye  abodes 
Of  those  two  (1 1)  Gods  on  milk-white  coursers  borne. 

ETEOCLES. 

Who  hate  thee  — 

POLYNICES. 

From  the  mansions  of  my  Sire 
Am  I  expeird. 

(11)  Zethus  and  Amphion,  who,  as  Barnes  observes  in  his  note  on 
this  passage,  are  also  called  TavwmaSuj  in  the  io^odndory  speech  t&  the 
Hercules  Distracted  of  our  Ao^r. 


THE  PHCENieiAN  DAMSEIA.  187 

ETEOCLES. 

Because  thou  hither  earnest 
Those  mansions  to  destroy. 

POLYNICES. 

Thence  was  I  driven 
With  foul  injustice.     O  ve  Powers  Divine! 

ETEOCLES. 

Go  to  Mycene;  there,  and  not  at  Thebes, 
Invoke  the  Gods. 

POLYNICES. 

You  trample  on  the  laws — 

ETEOCLES. 

-  Yet  am  not  I  like  thee  my  country's  foe. 

POLYNICES. 

Reft  of  my  portion,  while  you  drive  me  forth 
An  exile. 

ETEOCLES.      . 

Thee  moreover  will  I  slay. 

POLYNICES. 

Hear'st  thou  what  wrongs,  my  Father,  I  endure? 

ETEOCLES. 

Thy  actions  too  have  reach'd  his  ears. 

POLYNICES. 

And  you 
My  Mother. 

ETEOCLES. 

Thou  thy  Mother  canst  not  name 
Without  a  profanation.- 

POLYNICES. 

O  thou  city ! 

ETEOCLES. 

To  Argos  haste,  and  there  invoke  the  pool 
Of  Lerna. 

POI^YNICES. 

I  depart :   forbear  to  grieve 
For  me,  O  Mother,  but  accept  my  praise. 

ETEOCLESt 

From  these  domains  avaunt. 


188         THE  PHOENICIAN  i)AM^LS. 

POLYNICES. 

Before  I  go. 
Permit  me  to  behold  our  Sire. 

ETEOCLES. 

Thpu  shalt  not 
Obtain  this  boon. 

POLYNICES. 

My  virgin  Sisters  then. 

ETEOCLES. 

Them  too  thou  ne'er  shalf  see. 

POLYNICES. 

Alas !  dear  Sisters. 

ETEOCLES. 

Why  nam'st  thou  those  to  whom  thou  art  most  hateful  ? 

POLYNICES. 

Joy  to  my  Mother ! 

JOCASTA, 

Have  I  any  cause 
For  joy,  my  Son  ? 

POLYNICES. 

No  longer  am  I  yours. 

JOCASTA. 

Full  many  and  most  grievous  are  my  woes. 

POLYNICES. 

Because  he  wrongs  me. 

ETEOCLES. 

Equal  are  the  wrongi^ 
I  suffer. 

POLYNICES. 

Where  wiD  you  your  station  take 
Before'  yon  turrets  ? 

ETEOCLES. 

For  wjiat  purpose  ask 

This  question  ? 

POLYNICES. 

I  in  battle  am  resolv'd 
To  meet  and  slay  you.    •        ^ 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.  159 


ETEOCLES. 

The  same  wish  now  fires 


My  inmost  soul. 


JOCASTA. 

Alas !  my  Sons,  what  mean  ye  ? 

ETEOCLES. 

The  fact  itself  must  shew. 

^JOCASTA. 

Will  ye  not  shun 
The  curses  of  your  She  ? 

^  ETEOCLES. 

Perdition  seize 
On  our  whole  house  !  soon  shall  my  sword  imbrued 
With  gore,  no  longer  in  its  scabbard' rest. 

Exit  JOCASTA. 
POLYNICES. 

Thou  soil  which  nurtured  mfe,  and  every  God, 
Bear  witness^  that  with  insults  and  with  wrongs 
O'erwhelm'd,  I  from  my  country  like  a  slave. 
Not  like  the  son  of  Oedipus^  am  driven^ 
Whate'er  thou  suffer,  O  thou  city,  blame  \ 

Not  me,  but  him  :  for  I  was  loth  t'  invade 
This  land,  and  with  reluctance  now  depart. 
Thou  too,  O  Phcebus,  mighty  King,  who  guard'st 
These  streets,  ye  palaces,  my  youthful  comrades, 
Farewell ;  and,  O  ye  statues  of  the  Gods, 
Drench'd  with  the  blood  of  victims :  for  I  know  not 
Whether  I  ever  shall  accost  youmore. 
But  Hope  yet  sleeps  not,  and  in  her  I  place 
My  trust,  that  with  Heaven's  aid  I  shall  enjoy 
The  Theban  realm,  when  I  have  slain  this  boaster. 

[Exit  POLYNICES. 

teTEOCLES. 
Leave  these  domains  :  a  forethought  by  the  Gods 
Inspir'd,  my  Fatber  prompted,  when  on  thee 
The  name  of  Polynices,  to  denote 
Abundance  of  contention,  he  bestow'd. 

lEtH  BTSOCLES. 


190         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS, 

I 

CHORUS. 

ODE- 

I. 

Erst  to  this  land  the  Tyrian  Cadmus  came. 

When  at  his  feet  a  Heifer  lay, 
Who  in  the  meads  unyok'd  was  wont  to  stray, 

Fulfilling  Heaven's  response  well  known  to  fame> 

And  mark'd  the  spot  where  he  should  dwell : 

The  oracle  announc'd  this  fruitful  ground 

For  his  abode,  where  from  her  limpid  well, 

Fair  Dirce  spreads  a  cooling  stream  around. 

And  on  her  banks  are  vernal  blossoms  found ; 

Compress'd  by  amorous  Jove 

Here  Semele  the  ruddy  Bromius  bore. 

Whom  ivy  with  luxuriant  tendrils  strove 

In  infancy  to  maqtle  o'er. 

And  round  his  happy  brows  to  spread. 

Hence,  in  Bacchanalian  dance. 

With  light  an(^  wanton  tread 

The  Theban  nymphs  advance. 

And  matrons  all  their  cares  resign. 

Gay  Votaries  to  the  God  of  wine. 

Mars  at  the  fount  its  ruthless  guardian  plac'd. 

On  scaly  folds  a  Dragon  rode, 
Wild  glar'd  his  €yes,  in  vain  the  waters  flow'd. 
Nor  dar'd  the  thirsting  passenger  to  taste ; 

Advancing  with  undaunted  tread 
To  draw  libations  for  the  Powers  Divine, 
A  ponderous  stone  full  on  the  monster's  head 
Cadmus  discharg'd,  then  seiz'd  and  pierc'd  his  chine 
With  frequent  wounds  ;  so  Pallas  did  injoin : 

This  done,  the  teeth  he  sow'd. 
And  instantly,  dire  spectacle,  a  train 
All  clad  in  mail,  on  earth's  torn  surface  glow'd ; 

Soon  was  each  hardy  warrior  slain. 

And  to  the  soil  which  gave  him  birth 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.  igi 

Join'd  once  more ;  a  crimson  flood 
Moisten'd  the  ]ap  of  earth ; 
By  parching  winds  their  blood 
Was  visited,  and  still  remain 
Its  marks  on  the  discolor'd  plain, 

in. 

To  thee,  O  Epaphus,  the  child  of  Jove, 

Sprung  from  our  (12)  Grandame  lo's  love, 
I  cry'd  in  a  Barbaric  strain; 
O  visit,  visit  this  once  favour'd  plain 

Which  thy  descendants  call  their  own. 
Two  Goddesses  by  countless  votaries  known, 
Proserpina  dread  Queen  who  from  our  birth 
Conducts  us  to  the  tomb,  with  Cei'es  the  benign. 
E'en  she  whose  foodful  shrine 
Is  throng'd  by  every  denizen  of  earth. 

From  earliest  days  this  realm  possess'd  : 
With  lambent  glories  on  their  front  displayed, 
O  send  them  to  its  aid  ; 
Nought  can  withstand  a  Gods  request. 

ETEOCLES,  CHORUS. 

ETEOCLES  to  mu  0/  his  Attendants. 

Go  thou,  and  hither  bring  Menaeceus'  son 
Creon,  the  noble  brother  of  Jocasta 
My  Mother;  tell  him,  on  my  own  affairs. 
And  on  the  public  interests  of  the  state. 
With  him  I  would  consult,  ere  host  opposed 

(12)  According  to  Apollodorus,  lo,  after  her  long  wanderings,  took 
Epaphus,  her  son  by  Jupiter,  with  her  into  JEgypty  where  she  married 
Teiegonus,  the  King  of  that  country.  Epaphus  succeeded  his  Father4ii- 
law  in  his  dominions,  and  married  Memphis,  the  Daughter  of  Nilus,  by 
whom  he  had  one  Daughter  Libya,  from  whoi^  one  of  the  quarters  of  the 
world  now  called  Africa  (but  by  l^trabo,  and  most  of  the  antient  Geogra- 
pliical  writers,  Libya)  is  generally  supposed  to  have  derived  its  name. 
The  God  Neptune  was  the  Father,  and  Libya  tlie  Motlier,  of  Agenor, 
whose  son  Cadmus  married  Harmonia,  and  founded  lliebes,  as  mention- 
ed in  the  prologue  to  this  Tragedy  :  whence  it  appears  that  Eteodes  and 
Polynices  Mvejre  nine  generations  removed  from  Jo« 


192  TH£  PHCENICIAN  DAMSfiLS. 

To  host  in  battle  meet,  and  launch  the  spear. 
But  lo,  he  is  at  hand  to  spare  thy  feet 
The  toil  of  this  their  errand :  I  behold  hiin 
Approach  the  palace. 

CREON,  ETEOCLES>  CHORUS. 

CREON. 

I  to  every  gate 
And  every  centinel,  my  royal  Lord 
Have  gone  in  quest  of  you. 

ETEOCLES, 

Thee  too,  I  longed, 
O  Creon,  to  behold :  for  I  have  found 
Treaties  for  peace  all  fruitless  since  I  spoke 
With  Polynices. 

CREON. 

He,  1  hear,  looks  down 
With  scorn  on  Thebes,  tru^ing  in  his  ally 
Adrastus,  and  that  numerous  Argive  host. 
But  we  to  the  decision  of  the  Gods 
Must  DOW  refer.     Most  urgent  are  th'  affairs 
Of  which  I  come  to  tell. 

ETEOCLES. 

What  means  my  friend. 
Thy  words  I  comprehend  not. 

CREON. 

From  the  camp 
Of  Argos  a  Deserter  came. 

ETEOCLES. 

To  bring 
Some  recent  tidings  of  what  passes  there? 

CREON. 

Their  host,  he  says,  array'd  in  glittering  mail. 
Will  instantly  besiege  the  Theban  towers. 

ETEOCLES. 

The  valiant  race  of  Cadmus^  from  these  gates 
Must  sally  forth,  to  guard  their  native  land. 


THE  PHCENICtAN  DAMSELS.  vj3 

CREON. 

What  mean  you  ?  sees  not  your  impetuous  youth 
Our  strength  in  a  false  light  f  z  '. 

ETEOCLES.  * 

Without  the  trenches. 
To  show  that  we  are  ready  for  the  combat. 

CREON. 

Few  are  the  Theban  squadrons,  but  the  numfcer 
Of  theirs  is  great. 

ETEOCLES. 

In  words  I  know  them  brave. 

CREON. 

The  fame  of  Argos  thro'  all  Greece  resounds. 

ETEOCLES. 

Be  of  good  cheer;  I  with  their  corses  soon 
These  fields  will  cover, 

CREON. 

With  your  wishes,  mine 
Concur;  but  I  foresee  that  such  emprise 
Abounds  with  heaviest  dangers. 

ETEOCLES. 

Be  assur'd 
^    I  will  not  coop  my  host  within  the  walls. 

CREON. 

On  prudent  counsels  our  success  depends. 

ETEOCLES. 

Would'st  thou  persuade  me  therefore  to  attempt 
Some  other  method  ? 

CREON.  , 

Ere  you  risk  our  fate 
On  one  decisive  battle,  have  recourse 
To  all  expedients. 

ETEOCLES. 

What  if  I  rush  forth 
From  ambush,  and  encounter  them  by  night  ? 

CREON. 

Could  you  return,  if  worsted,  and  take  shelter 
Within  these  walls  ? 

VOL.  I.  O 


A^. . 


194         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

ETEOCLES. 

Night  to  both  hosts  afTords 
The  same  impediments ;  bat  they  fare  besC 
Who  give  th'  assault. 

CREON. 

'Tis  terrible  to  rush 
On  danger  midst  the  thickest  clouds  of  darkness. 

ETEOCLES. 

Shall  I  then  launch  the  javelin,  while  they  sit 
Around  the  genial  board? 

CREON. 

This  might  alarm  them : 
Our  business  is,  to  conquer. 

ETEOCLES. 

Dirce's  channel*. 
Which  they  must  cross  in  their  retreat,  is  deep. 

CREON. 
All  schemes  you  can  propose  are  less  expedient 
Than  if  you  with  a  prudent  caution  act. 

ETEOCLP. 

But  what  if  we  with  cavalry  attack 
The  Argive  camp  ? 

CRfiON^ 
On  every  side  the  host 
With  chariots  is  secured. 

ETEOCLES. 

What  then  remains- 
For  me  to  do  ?  must  I  surrender  up 
This  city  to  our  foes  ? 

CREON. 

Not  thus ;  exert 
Your  wisdom,  and  deliberate. 

ETEOCLES. 

What  precaution^ 
Think'st  thou,   were  most  discreet  ? 

CREON. 

I  am  informed 
They  have  seven  Champions. 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS,         195 

ETEOCLES. 

What's  the  task  assigned 
For  them  t'  effect  ?  their  strength  can  be  but  small. 

CREON. 

To  head  as  many  bands^  and  storm  each  gate. 

ETEOCLES. 

How  then  shall  we  proceed  ?  for  I  disdain 
To  sit  inactive. 

CREON. 
On  your  part  select 
Seven  warriors  who  the  portals  may  defend. 

ETEOCLES. 

O'er  squadrons  to  preside^  or  take  their  stand 
As  single  combatants  i 

CREON. 

To  lead  seven  squadrons ;  ^    - 
Choosing  the  bravest. 

ETEOCLES. 

Well  I  understand 
Thy  purpose ;  to  prevent  the  foe  from  scaling 
The  ramparts. 

CREON. 

Comrades  of  experience  add ; 
For  one  man  sees  not  all. 

ETEOCLES. 

Shall  I  to  valour 
Or  wisdom  give  the  preference  i 

CREON. 

Join  them  both : 
For  one  without  the  other  is  a  thing 
Of  no  account. 

ETEOCLES. 

It  shall  be  done  :  111  march 
(13)  Into  the  city,  place  at  every  gate 

(13)  "The  Scholiast  says;  Eteodes  here  speaks  ridicalousty,  lie- 
"  causehewasahreadyin  the  city.  But  with  his permissioiiy  andthatof 
«  all  the  Critics,  I  assert,  that  it  is  usual  for  a  pePBon  who  slays  all  day  a^ 

O  3 


196         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

A  chief,   as  thou  hast  counselFd,  and  the  troops 

Distribute  so  that  we  on  equal  terms 

May  with  the  foe  engage.    It  would  be  tedious 

The  name  of  every  warrior  to  recount. 

Just  at  this  moment,  when  beneath  our  walls       i 

The  enemy  is  posted.     But  with  speed 

I  go,  that  I  in  action  may  not  prove 

A  loiterer.     May  it  be  my  lot  to  meet 

My  Brother  hand  to  hand,  that  with  this  spear 

I  midst  the  Hnes  of  battle  may  transfix 

And  kill  that  spoiler,  whp  h  come  to  lay . 

My  country  waste.     I  to  thy  care  entrust 

The  nuptials  pf  Antigone  my  Sister 

And  thy  Son  Haemon,  if  it  be  my  fate. 

To  perish  in  the  combat,  and  enforce 

Our  forp^r  contract  with  my  dying  breath. 

Thou  art  J  ocas ta's  Brother  :  of  what  use 

Are  many  words  ?   my  Mother  in  such  rank 

Maintain,  as  j5uit8:thuy  hgnp^irv  and  the  love 

Thou  bear'st  me.    AiS  fpi*  uyr  W^^bABi^y  §irej 

To  his  own  folly  are  his  sufferings  due. 

Bereft  of  eye-sight ;  him  I  cannot  praise^ 

For  by  his  curses  ^ould  he  slay  us  both.. 

One  thing  have  we  omitted  ;  of  the^Seer 

''  home,  though  he  be  m  the  city^  tb  i>^  spoken  of  as  not  havmg  gone 
'<  mto  the  city  that  clay.  This  I  metition  in  a  cursory  manner,  lest  the 
*^  Poet  should  be  left  destitute  of  that defie^Qe  kt  deserves.**  Barn^s^ 
Carraelli  nearty  copies  the  above  note.  Grotihs  in  his  preface  observes, 
that  it  is  well  known  that  a  palace,  though  contained  in  a  city,  may  be 
distmguished  from  iU  Valkenaer  observes,  that  this  is  here  true  in  its 
utmost  extent,  and  that  the  Acropolis  qr^citadel  in  wfaidi  the  pal^e  stoo4, 
was  originally  detached  from  Thebes,  which  was  built  on  lower  groiUM^ 
till  the  city  became  so  populous,  and  its  buildings  extended  thiemselves  so 
far  as  to  form  a  junction.  Dir.'Miisgrate  echoes  the  Scholiast,  and  calls 
tke  reading  of  iwxt*  extremely  absurd,  and  iirdjposes  in  its  stead  xwcxw,  and 
inserts  the  word  ambitinn  in  bis  l^tm  version :  w^hifb,  in  ^diatever  point 
«f  view  we  consider  the  matter,  may  be  detrimental,  and  canivot,  I  ap- 
iyteheftd,  be  the  least  improvement  to  the  j^oniext.  Bninck,  however, 
wts  Aldiei  and  jdl  the  manus^ts  at  defiance,  uidlbi^c^  ittseits  nvto^fr  in 
■»«  edition* '-        ' 


■ii  -i 


THE  PHCENICIAN  IIJiMSfilJS.  197 

Tiresias^  to  enquire^  if  he  bave  ought 
Of  Heaven's  obscure  responses  to  disclose.   .        :  ^T 
Thy  Son,  Menaeceus  from  his  Grandsire  nam'd^ 
To  fetch  the  Prophet  hither^  will  I  send^  T 

0  Creon,  for  he  gladly  will  converse 
With  thee :  but  I  so  scornfully  have  treated, 
E'en  in  his  presence,  the  whole  Soothsayer's  art, 
That  he  abhors  me.     But  I,  on  the  city  '    > 
And  thee,  O  Creon,  this  injunction  lay  ; 

If  I  prove  stronger,   suffer  not  the  corse 
Of  Polynices  in  this  Theban  realm    . 
To  be  interr'd :  let  death  be  the  reward 
Of  him  who  scatters  dust  o'er  his  remains, 
Although  he  be  the  dearest  of  my  friends. 
Thus  far  to  thee  —  But  to  my  followers  this 

1  add ;  bring  forth  my  shield,   my  helm,  my  greaves. 
And  radiant  mail,  that  by  victorious  Justice 
Accompanied,  I  instantly  may  rush 

Amidst  the  fray  which  waits  me.     But  to  Prudence, 
Who  best  of  all  th'  immortal  Powei*s  protects 
The  interests  of  her  votaries,  let  us  pray 
That  she  this  city  would  from  ruin  save. 

{Exit  ETEOCLES. 
CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I. 

How  long,  stern  Mars,  shall  scenes  of  "death  inspire 
Aversion  to  the  feasts  gay  Bacchus  holds  ? 
Why  join'st  thou  not  the  beauteous  virgin  choir 
Whose  heaving  bosoms  love's  first  warmth  unfolds. 
Thy  hair's  loose  ringlets  waving  o'er  thy  face, 
Pleas'd  on  some  amorous  theme  the  lute  t'  employ 
Dear  to  the  Graces,  dear  to  social  joy  f 
But  thou,  a  foe  to  the  devoted  race 


198         THB  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

V 

Of  (14)  Thebe,  lead'st  these  Argives  to  their  fields 
Forming  dire  preludes  for  a  tragic  dance ; 
Kor  with  the  God  whose  hand  the  thyrsus  wields^ 
In  dappled  skins  of  hinds  dost  thou  advance ; 
Exulting  in  the  thong  and  harness'd  steeds. 
Thou  driv'st  thy  chariot  o'er  Ismenos'  meads,  . 
And  'gainst  th'  invaders,  in  each  Theban  breast 
Infusing  equal  rancor,  prompt'st  that  band. 
Seed  of  the  Dragon's  teeth,  to  take  their  stand ; 
These  rush  to  guard  the  walls,  and  those  t'  invests 
Inhuman  Goddess,  Discord,  to  the  Kings 
Of  Labdacus's  house  a  train  of  misery  brings, 

II. 

With  sacred  foliage  ever  clad,  ye  groves 
Of  fam'd  Cithaeron,  whose  steep  cliffs  abound 
~    With  sylvan  game,  thou  mount,  where  Dian  loves 
To  urge  thro'  drifted  snows  the  rapid  hound, 
Thou  ouffht'st  not  to  have  nourish'd  in  thy  shade 
Jocasta's  Son  ;   then  better  had  he  died 
Whenf  cast  forth  from  the  palace^  on  thy  side 
In  glittering  vest  the  royal  child  was  laid  : 
Nor  ought  the  Sphyrtx,  the  curse  of  these  domains, 
That  subtle  virgin,  to  have  wing'd  her  way 
From  thy  proud  heights  with  inauspicious  strains; 
Arm'd  with  four  talons  clench'd  to  rend  her  prey 
These  walls  approaching,  high  into  the  air 
The  progeny  of  Cadmus  did^she  bear. 
By  Pluto  sent  from  hell,  'gainst  Thebes  she  came. 
New  woes  the  Sons  of  Oedipus  await. 
Again  this  city  feels  the  scourge  of  fate. 
For  virtue  springs  not  from  the  couch  of  shame ; 
Fruits  of  th'  incestous  womb,  their  Sire'^  disgrace 
Are  these  devoted  Youths,  accurst  and  spurious  race. 

(14)  "  Thebe  wa3  the  Daughter  of  Asopus,  and  wife  of  Zethus,  and 
"  from  her  the  city  of  Thebes  derived  its  name,  according  to  ApoUodonis 
''  and  Pausanias.  See  also  the  first  verse  of  Pindar*s  first  Isthmian 
**  Ode  '*  MusGRAVE.  The  above  interpretation  of  Dr*  Mw^grave  is 
confirmed  by  Brunck. 


7HB  PH(ENICIAN  SAIfSSlJ^.  f99 

in. 

Erst  thy  teeming  soil  geve  birth, 
<As  in  barbaric  accents  wiis  made  known 

To  us  by  the  load  voice  of  fame,) 
O  Thebes,  to  that  illustrious  brood  of  Earth, 
Sprung  from  the  teeth  of  that  slain  Dragon  sown. 

Thy  realm  their  prowess  did  adorn. 

In  honour  of  (15)  Harmonia's  bridal  morn^ 
To  this  favour'd  region  came 

(15)  The  marriage  of  Cadmuft  with  Harmonia^  the  Daughter  of  Mars 
and  Veins,  is  recorded  by  Hesiod  in  his  Generation  of  the  Godi,  and 
many  other  antient  Poets  and  Historians.  I^wsanias  in  particular  men* 
tions  in  his  Laconica,  the  Gods  attending  those  nnptialsy  and  b^lowing 
their  gifts  on  the  wedded  pair;  and,  in  his  Boeotica,  he  speaks  of  the 
Moses  themselves  celebrating  these  espousals  with  their  songs.  The  fol* 
lowing  linesy  extracted  firom  the  third  book  of  the  Bkmysiaca  of  Nonnos^ 
a  pative  of  /Egypt,  who  flourished  in  the  fifth  century,  are  pact  of  the 
speech  of  the  Crow  to  Cadmus : 

QtffAOi  tfciii  x«XiM  at*  Ti  tVfA^ie  9u6^oi  o^iviif  j 
K^vi  oi  ftjbii^oirrof  A^vu^oq  tirMo  ynrur 

HiiOa;  trofjLWop  ixiK>  »«  AfTi/*»»*  icxto  i^^x^en, 
A^fboyinf  Airovofto,  xat  Ev^iinm*  Aiiri  rav^v* 

Jjptt  lights  his  torch,  and  bids  thee  come  away ; 

Tlion  dothfiil  Bridegroom,  whence  tins  cold  delay? 

Favoured  of  Heaven,  who  midst  th'  enchanting  scene 

Where  young  Adonis  wooed  the  Cyprian  Queen,  'I 

DwelTst  near  the  gates  of  Bybhs.— But  in  thee 

I  am  mistidien :  for  thou  ne'er  didst  see 

Adonis'  fount,  and  Byblis'  land,  where  reign 

The  Graces  worshjpp'd  in  a  statdy  fime, 

Where  in  the  dance  Assyrian  Venus  moves. 

And  Pallas  frowns  not  on  their  wedded  loves: 

Not  Dian,  but  Penoasion,  who  the  Bride 

Adorns  with  smiles  auspicious,  is  thy  gnld^ 

CherishM  by  her,  man's  amorous  flames  increase. 

Long  hast  tfaon  roam*d;  thy  labours  now  shall  cease: 

Harmoniafs  plighted  hand  with  joy  receive, 

Aod  to  th^  BuU^  embrace  Europa  leave. 


«00         TH8  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS; 

All  the  celestial  choir. 
What  time  the  turrets,  which  this  grateful  b^nd 
Impregnable  by  human  force  esteems,  , 
Rear'd  by  the  hai'p,  and  not  the  artist's  haqd^ 

Obedient  to  Amphion's  lyre,  :  ;  • 

Arose  an^idst  the  fruitful  meads 
Where  gentle  Dirce  leads 
Her  current,  and  Ismenos'  waters  3'ield 
Abundant  verdure  to  the  field 
Encompassed  by  their  streams. 
She,  whom  a  l^eifer's  horned  front  disguis'd^ 
>lo,  was  Mother  to  the  Theban  kings : 
Stfccessively,  each  bliss  by  mortals  priz'd, 
Hath  to  this  city  given  renown. 
And  hither  still  fair  Victory  brings 
The  noblest  meed  of  war,  the  laurel's  deathless  crown. 

TIRESIAS,  MEN^CEUS,  CREON,  CHOflUS. 

TIRESIAS,  to  his  DmgkJter  Manto. 
Lead  on  ;  for  thou,  my  Daughter,  to  the  feet 
Of  thy  blind  Father,  prov'st  an  eye  as  sure 
As  to  the  mariners  the  polar  star. 
Place  me  where  I  on  level  ground  may  tread/:  .- 
And  go  befoae,  lest  we  both  fall:  thy  Siie 
Is  feeble.     In  thy  virgin  hand  preserve  > 

Those  oracles  which  I  in  former  days  .     « 

Receiv'd,  when  from  the  feather'd  race  I  drew 
My  auguries,   and  in  the  sacred  chair 
Of  prophecy  was  seated.     Say^  thou  youth 
Menseceus  son  of  Creon,  thro'  the  city         ,  * 
How  far  must  I  proceed  before  I  rfeach 
Thy  Father,  for  my  knees  can  scarce  support  n^e, 

This  Poet  has  bestowed  some  thousands  of  Terses  on  the  histoiy  ci  Cad- 
mus and  Harmonift,  and  introduced  not  only  the  €r6d8,  but  1U1  nature, 
and  even  thinga  inanuaiiate,^  as  bearing  a  part  in  th6  joy  occasioned  by 
their  union.  ' 


..r 


THE  PHffiNICIAN  DAMSISU9.  901 

And  tho'  full  oft  I  raise  these  aching  feet^ 
I  seem  to  gain  no  ground. 

CREON. 

Be  of  good  cheer, 
Tiresias,*  for  with  well-directed  step 
Already  have  you  reach'd  your  friend.     My  Son 
Support  him  :  for  the  chariot,  and  the  foot 
Of  an. infirm  old  man,  is  wont  to  need 
The  kind  assistance  of  some  guiding  hand. 

TIRESIAS. 

No  matter.    I  am  here  :  why  with  such  haste, 

0  Creon,   calFst  thou  me  ? 

CREON. 
I  have  not  yet 
Forgotten ;  -but  till  your  exhausted  strength 
Can  be  recovered  after  the  fatigue 
Of  your  long  march,  take  breath. 

TIRE3IAS. 

With  wearied  step 

1  yesterday  came  hither  from  the  realm 

Of  Athens,  for  (l6)  for  there  also  was  a  war 
Against  £umolpus,  o'er  whose  troops  I  caused 
The  dauntless  race  of  Cecrops  to  prevail : 

(16)  It  is  by  no  means  uncommon  for  Poets  to  strain  a  point  of  Qiro^ 
nology  in  order  to  extoll  the  atchievements  of  their  countrymen.  By 
referring  to  Pausanias,  we  find  that  Neptune  was  the  father,  and  Chione 
Daughter  of  Boreas  and  Orithya,  tlie  Mother  of  Eumolpus.  Apollodo- 
nis  is  more  circumstantisd,  or  at  least  more  conformable  to  Euripides,  in 
his  account  of  the  war  here  spoken  of:  he  informs  us,  that  £umo4|>i]8 
brought  a  numerous  army  fr6m  Thrace  to  assist  the  Eleusmians,  when 
they  attacked  the  Athenians  during  the  reign  of  Erectheus,  who  having 
consulted  the  orpcle,  was  promised  that  he  should  prevail  over  the  enemy 
on  condition  of  his  sacrificing  one  of  his  Daughters;  his  compliance  with 
this  hard  altemative>in  order  tq  pave  his  country,  has  been  commemorated 
as  well  by  historians  and  oiatorSi  as  by  our  Tragic  Bard  in  the  278th  line 
of  his  Ion.  But  the  Scholiast  has  very  properly  observed,  that  tliis  event 
'  was  prior  to  the  war  of  Thebes  by  no  less  than  four  generations.  The 
Athenians  are  also  in  this  speech  called  Cecropidae,  or  the  descendants  of 
Cecrops^  although  Cecrop»  wm  thje  son  and  sucjcessor  of  Erectbeus. 


20e  THE  PH(i;NICIAN  DAMSB15. 

Hence  I  possess  the  golden  crown  thou  seest. 
As  a  first  fruit  selected  frora  the  spoils 
Of  foes  discomfited. 

CREON. 

That  crown  I  deem 
An  omen  of  success.    You  know  the  storm 
Which  threatens  us  from  yonder  Argive  host. 
And  what  a  mighty  conflict  now  impends 
O'er  the  inhabitants  of  Thebes.    Our  King 
Eteocles,  in  brazen  arms  array 'd, 
To  face  Mycene's  squadrons  is  gone  forth. 
But  hath  with  me  a  strict  injunction  left. 
To  iearn  of  you  what  can  with  most  effect 
By  us  be  done,  the  city  to  preserve. 

TIRESIAS. 

This  mouth,  I,  on  Eteocles*  account 
Still  closing,  would  for  ever  have  suppress*d 
-   Heaven's  dread  response;  biit  will  to  thee  unfold  it 
Since  'tis  thy  wish  to  hear ;  this  land,  O  Creon, 
Hath  been  diseased  since  Laius  'gainst  the  will 
Of  Heaven  became  a  Father,  and  begot 
The  wretched  Oedipus,  his  Mother's  Hi^sband, 
Whose  eyes,  torn  out  by  his  own  hand,  the  Gods 
Wiselj'  ordain'd  should  to  all  Greece  afford 
A  dread  example;  which,   in  striving  long 
To  cover  from  the  knowledge  of  the  world. 
His  Sons,  as  if  they  thought  to  haveescap'd 
Heaven's  eye,  with  a  presumptuous  folly  sinn'd : 
For  to  their  Father  yielding  no  respect, 
Nor  loosing  him  from  prison,  they  embitter'd 
The  anguish  of  a  miserable  man: 
At  once  afflicted  by  disease  and  shame. 
Those  horrid  execrations  he  pour'd  forth 
Against  them  both.     What  have  I  left  undone, 
Or  what  unsaid,  tho'  all  my  zeal  but  serv'd 
To  make  me  hated  by  tli'  unnatural  sons 
Of  Oedipus?   but  by  each  other's  hand. 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         2oa 

Them  soon  shall  death  o'ertake,  O  Creon  ;  heaps 
On  heaps  of  carnage  cover  all  the  plain, 
Arid  Argive  weapons  mingling  with  the  shafts 
Of  Cadmus'  race,   thro'  the  whole  Thebnn  land 
Cause  bitter  plaints.    Thou  too,  O  wretched  city, 
Shalt  be  destroy'd,  unless  my  counsels/nieet 
With  one  who  will  obey  them.     What  were  most 
To  be  desir'd,  were  this :  that  none  who  spring 
From  Oedipus  should  here  reside,  or  hold 
The  scepter  of  this  land,  for  they,  impell'd 
By  the  malignant  Demons,  will  o'erthrow 
The  City.     But  since  evil  thus  prevails 
O'er  good,  one  other  method  yet  remains 
To  save  us.     But  unsafe  were  it  for  me 
Such  truths  to  utter,  and,  on  bitter  terms. 
Must  they  whom  Fate  selects,  their  country  lieaL 
I  go,  farewelt.     (17)  I>  as  a  private  man 
Shall  suffer,  if  necessity  ordain, 
With  multitudes,  the  evils  which  impend  : 
For  how  can  I  escape  the  general  doom  ? 

CREON. 

Here  tarry,  O  my  venerable  friend. 

TIKESUS. 

Detain  me  not. 

CREON. 

Stay ;  wherefore  would  you  fly  i 


(17)  At  the  second  siege  of  Thebes,  ^hen  the  city  was  taken  by  the 
Epigoni,  or  sons  of  the  seven  Chiefs  slain  in  tlie  war  which  is  the  flul^ect 
of  the  Tragedy  before  ns,  Tiresias,  according  to  PausaiiiBa,  died  end* 
denly,  in  an  extreme  old  age,  on  the  road,  as  he  was  drinking  at  a  finm- 
tain,  after  bemg  seized  and  carried  away  by  the  victors:  his  Dang^ter 
JVfanto,  the  same  Historian  adds,  was  sent  by  the  Argives  to  Cololtbon, 
where  she  married  Rhacias  a  Cretan,  by  whom  she  had  a  son  named  Mop* 
sus,  who  inherited  her  skfll  in  Divination.  Conon,  and  Tzetzes,  the 
Greek  Conunentator  of  Lycophron,  ascribe  to  Mopsus  a  more  illostrioui 
paternal  origin,  and  call  ApoUq  his  Father.  Virgil  represents  Manto  as 
coming  to  Italy,  and  having  by  the  river  Tiber  a  Son  called  Ocnus,  the 
founder  of  the  city  of  Mantua,  so  named  after  his  Mother, 


204         THE  PHOENICIAN  l>AMSEi^. 

TIRESIAS. 

It  is  thy  Fortune  which  from  thee  departs. 
And  not  Tiresias. 

CREON. 

By  what  means,  inform  me, 
Can  Thebes  with  iu  inhabitants  be  sav'd  ? 

TIRESIAS. 
Tho'  such  thy  wish  at  present,  thou  ere  long 
Wilt  change  thy  purpose. 

CREON. 

How  can  I  be  loth 
To  save  my  country  i 

TIRESIAS. 

Art  thou  anxious  then 
To  hear  the  truth  ? 

CREON. 

What  ought  I  to  pursue 
With  greater  zeal  ? 

-      TIRESIAS. 

Thou  instantly  shall  hear 
The  oracles  Heaven  sends  me  to  unfold  : 
But  first  assure  me  whexe  Menseceus  is. 
Who  led  me  hither. 

CREON. 

At  your  side  he  stands. 

TIRESIAS. 

Far  hence  let  hini  retire,  while  I  disclose 
To  thee  the  aweful  mandate  of  the  Gods. 

CREiON. 

My  Son  with  th'  utmost  strictness  will  observe 
The  silence  you  injoin. 

TIRESIAS. 
Is  it  thy  will 
Haat  in  bis  presence  I  to  thee  shoidd  speak  ? 

CREON. 
Of  aught  that  could  preserve  his  native  land 
He  with  delight  would  hear. 


TliE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS.         £05 

TIRESIAS. 

Then,  to  the  means 
Which  thro'  my  oracles  are  pointed  out, 
Yield  due  attention  ;   for  by  acting  thus 
Ye  shall  preserve  this  city,  where  the  race 
Of  Cadmus  dwell ;   thon,   in  thy  country's  cause 
Thy  Son  Menaeceus  art  ordain'd  to  slay : 
Since  thou  on  me  importunately  call'st 
The  dread  behest  of  Fortune  to  unfold. 

CREON. 

What  say  you  ?   how  unwelcome  are  these  words^ 

0  aged  man ! 

TIRESIAS. 

^  I  only.speak  of  things 

Just  as  they  are;  and  add,  thou  must  perform 
Th'  injunction. 

CREON. 

How  much  evil  have  you  utter'd 
In  one  short  moment ! 

TIRESIAS. 

Tho'  to  thee  unwelcome, 
Yet  to  thy  country  fame  and  health. 

CREON. 

Your  words 

1  hear  not,  nor  your  purpose  comprehend : 
The  city  I  abandon  to  its  fate. 

TIRESIAS. 
His  purpose  he  retracts,  and  is  no  loagrr 
(18)  The  man  he  was. 

CREON. 

Depart  in  peace  ;  I  need  not 
Your  oracles. 

(18)  The  expression  of  Awp  o5*  »x  ti*  wJJo;,  rendered  by  liie  Latin  inter- 
preters, vir  iste  non  amplius  idem  est,  is  in  my  copy  of  King's  edition  thus 
interpreted  in  a  manuscript  note  of  Mr.  De  Missy's,  "  ita  Gallice.possis 
**  dicere,  cet  homme-la  n'est  plus  ini,  pro,  cet  homme-la  n'est  plus  le 
''  m^me.'*  The  English  language  allows  the  same  mode  of  speaking,  and 
**  -this  man  is  no  longer  himself*  oc<mrs  among  our  ordinary  phra'»nRS, '  •    * 


m6         THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS* 

.  TIRESIAS. 

Hath  truth  then  lost  its  merit. 
Because  thou  art  unhappy  ? 

CREON* 

By  those  knees, 
You  I  implore,  and  by  those  hoary  locks,. 

TIRESUS. 

Why  sue  to  me?  the  ills  'gainst which  thou  pr^y'st 
Are  not  to  be  avoided. 

CREON. 

Peace !  divulge  not 
In  Thebes  these  tidings. 

TIRESUS. 

Dost  thou  bid  me  act 

« 

Unjustly  ?  them  I  never  will  suppress. 

CREON. 

What  is  your  purpose,  to  destroy  my  son  i 

TIRESIAS. 

Let  others  see  to  that:  1  only  speak 
As  Heaven  ordains. 

CREON. 

But  whence  was  such  a  curse 
On  me  and  on  my  progeny  deriv'd  ? 

TIRESIAS. 

Well  hast  thou  ask'd  this  question,  and  afield 
For  our  debate  laid  open :  in  yon  den, 
Where  erst  the  guard  of  Dirce's  fountain  lay, 
^  Tliat  earth-born  Dragon,  must  the  youth  pour  forth, 
!\   His  blood  for  a  libation  to  the  Ground, 
And  expiate  by  his  death  the  antient  hate 
To  Cadmus  borne  by  Mars,   who  thus  avenges 
The  progeny  of  Earth  the  Dragon  slain  : 
This  done,  the  God  of  Battles  will  become 
Your  champion  ;  and  when  Earth  shall,  in  the  stead 
Of  her  lost  fruit  the  Dragon,  have  receiv'd 
The  fruit  of  that  heroie  race  who  sprung 
From  its  own  teeth,  and  human  blood  for  blood. 


THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSEtS.  «07 

Propitious  shall  ye  find  the  teeming  soil. 
Which  erst,  instead  of  wheat,  produced  a  crop 
Of  radiant  helms.     Die  then  some  victim  must 
Who  from  the  Jaws  of  that  slain  Dragon  sprung : 
But  thou  alone  in  Thebes  remain^st  who  thence 
Deriv'st  thy  birth  unmix'd,  both  by  thy  Sire 
And  by  the  female  line,  thence  too  descend 
Thy  generous  sons:  but  Hasmon  must  not  bleed. 
Because  he  is  espoused,  nor  in  a  state 
Of  pure  celibacy  doth  still  remain. 
For  he  possesses  an  affianc'd  bride, 
Altho'  he  be  a  stranger  to  her  bed. 
But,  for  the  city,  if  diis  tender  youth 
Shall  as  a  chosen  victim  be  devoted. 
He  by  his  death  will  save  his  native  land, 
Will  cause  Adrastus  and  his  Argive  host 
With  anguish  to  return,  before  their  eyes 
Placing  grim  death,  and  add  renown  to  Thebes. 
From  these  two  fortunes  make  thy  choice  of.  one. 
Whether  thy  sou  or  city  thou  wilt  save. 
Thou  hast  heard  all  I  had  to  say  in  answer 
To  thy  enquiries.     Daughter  lead  me  home. 
Unwise  is  be  who  practises  ^he  art 
Of  divination  ;  for  if  he  ar^nounce 
Evils  to  come,  he  is  abhorr'd  by  those 
Who  hear  him ;  but,  thro'  pity,  if  he  utter 
Untruths  that  please,  he  sins  against  the  Gods. 
Phoebus  alone,  who  cannot  fear  the  hate 
Of  man,   his  own  responses  should  pronounce. 

lExit  TIKESIAS. 

CHORDS. 

What  means  this  silence  ?  wherefore  hasi  thou  cWd 
Thy  mouth,  O  Creon?  but  I  too  am  smitten 
With  equal  terror. 

CREOK. 
How  can  a  reply 


/ . 


208         TBI!  PHOENICIAN  DAMSEIS. 

Be  made  co  such  proposal  ?  what  I  mean 

To  say,  is  evident.     To  such  a  pitch 

Of  woe  may  I  ne^cr  come,  as  to  resign 

My  son  to  bleed  for  Thebes !   In  all  mankind 

The  love  they  bear  their  children  is  as  strong 

As  that  of  life ;  nor  is  there*  any  Father 

Who  for  a  victim  will  yield  uj>  his  Son. 

May  no  man  praise  me  on  such  terms  as  slaying. 

Those  I  begot !   I  stand  prepared  to  die. 

For  I  am  ripe  in  years,  and  woul^  for  Thebes 

Make  due  atonement -with  my  streaming  gore. 

But,  O  my  son,   ere  the  whole  city  'know. 

Regardless  of  that  frantic  Prophet^  voice,     •  - 

Fly  from  this  land,  fly  with  your  utmost  sj^ed ; 

He  will  proclaim  the  oracle  to  those 

Who  wield  the  sceptre,  or  lead  forth  oui^  troops  '  • 

To  battle,  visiting  each  Chieftain  station'd- 

At  the  seven  gates:  if  hjiply  we  with  him' 

Can  be  beforehand,  youmay  yet  be  sav'd; 

But  if  you  loiter,  Iwe  are  both  undone, 

And  you  must  die. 

MENiECEUS.  : 
But  whither,  to  ^hatcity. 
What  hospitable  stranger -speed  my  flight?     - 

CREON. 

As  far  as  possible  from  these  domains*  > 

MENJECEUS.  •  c      ■:   • 

You  ought  to  name  a  plaCe  for  my  retreat, -        - 
And  I  must  execute  what  you  coipmand. 

CREON. 

Passing  thro'  Delphi— '    - 

..  -  -  MENjfeCEUS.      •'''*      •    V'!  •  ■  i"''V 

Whither^  O  m^  Sire, 
Must  I  proceed  s"  ,  ..  7 : . ;   .. 

GREON; 

To  the  .Molian  land. 


THE  PHCENICIAN  l>il^BfSE]!s.         eoo 

HESJECEVS. 

But  whither  thence  shall  I  direct  mjr  course? 

CREON. 

Next  to  Tbesprotia. 

MENiECEUS. 

(19)  Where  Dodona  rears 
Her  hallowed  grove. 

CREON. 

Full  vrell  you  oompreheod 
My  meaning.  ^ 

MENJECEUS. 

There  what  safeguard  shall  I  find  i 

CREON. 

Its  tutelary  God  your  steps  will  guide. 

MENACEUS. 
But  how  shall  I  with  treasures  be  supplied  ? 

CREON. 

To  you  will  I  convey  abundant  gold. 

MENiECEUS. 

Discreetly  have  you  spoken,  O  my  Sire. 

CREON. 

Now  leave  me. 

BfENJECEUS. 

To  your  Sister  I  would  go 
I  mean  Jocasta^  who  first  nurtured  me 
In  infancy,  when  of  my  Mother  reft 
An  orphan  I  became;  one  fond  adieu 

(19)  .Stchyliis,  inhis  PrometlieiB,  speaks  in  1^  maniier  of  ibe  onqjk 
and  fane  of  Thesprotkun  Jove  at  Dodona ;  tiioogh  it  most  be  confcind 
Dodona  it  not  in  Thesprotiay  bat  as  Strabo  expresses  it,  im  ^tomfithiCf 
^  bordering  onThesprotiay*  being  situated  in  Molossia,  another  iOMriet 
of  Epims.  In  Enstatfains  and  Stephanas  ByianHnns^  we  meet  vdOiteea 
different  conjectnies  In  regard  to  tiie  derivation  of  ih»  name  DodOB% 
which  they  say  owes  its  origin  either  to  a  Daughter  of  Japiter  and  Ea- 
topa,  or  one  of  the  Nymphs  the  Dtos^tem  of  Oceanos,  or,  lastfy,  te  a 
X  lyver  in  E^pornSy  called  DodoB. 

VOL.  I.  p 


210  *     Ttt^  PIi(£NICm>i  O^M^M 

To  her  I  fain  would  bid,  and  of  (20)  my  life 
Then  take  due  cajpe« 

But  go,  or  you  wiU  frusitra^e 
All  I  can  do  to  save  you.  {Exit  CREoif . 

'With  what  art, 

0  Virgins,  have  I  sooth'd  my  Father's  fears. 
By  specious  words  (my  promise  to  accomplish) 
Deceiving  him  who  sends  me  hence,  to  rob 
The  City  of  those  fortunes  which  await  her, 
And  brand  me  with  a  coward^s  liateful  name. 
In  an  old  man,  such  Weakness  claims  excuse; 
But  I  should  sin  beyond  all  hopes  of  pardon. 

If  I  betrayed  the  land  which.gave  rae  birlh.        -     * 

1  go,  to  save  this  city;  be  assiir'd. 

Such  are  tfie  tarn>s  on  which  I  yield  up  life,..    .  :  ;a 
Content  to  perish  in  my  country's  cause. 
If  they  whom  H«avei^'  oracular  response        .  ,- 
Leaves  at  full  liberty,  by  np  decrees 
Of  the  resistlesai  Destinies  ipipell'd. 
Maintain  their  ground  in  battle,  nothing  loth 
To  bleed,  the  champions  of  their  native  landji 
Before  yon  turrets ;  base  were  it  in  pie, 
If  proving  faithless  to  my  Sire,  my  Brother, 
And  country,  Hke  d  dastard,  I'shdpld  speed 
My  flight  from  these  domains}  wheree'ier  I  live. 
Shame  would  o'ertake  me.    rrom  the  st»!ifry  pole 
May  Jove  forefend,  and  Mars,  in  human  gore 
Exulting,  who  the  sceptre  of  this  realm 
Brat  gav^  to  Kings,  Earth's  progeny,  the  seed 
Of  that  slain  Dragon's  teeth.    But  I  wiljigOj,  •„,  .    ■.. 
lAscead  the  topmost  pinnacles,  and  pieioiDg'   -^ 
My  breast,  where  they  o'erhang  the  Dr«^oA's  efave^t  * 
THre  very  spot  the  Seer  described,  redeem' 

.X^0>  The  readiuf  4if  am^m^^,  immA  9i  vn^^  m  adepted  jb  Jdor* 
edition,  and  mentioned  by  Dr.  Musgrave  m  Ms  OMb^  ai  Mi|f%ipf«ntd 
by  no  less  authority  than  th^  of  ^ightmanuscripti.   . 


THE  PHCENICIAN  jyASOMS.:        2i\ 

My  country  from  its  fb^s.    I  h«ve  pronottnc'd 
Th'  irrevocable  word.    But,  by  my  deatb> 
On  Thebes  no  sordid  present  to  bestow, 
I  haste^  and  from  these  mischiefs  will  set  free 
The  groaning  land.    Would  dvery  man  exert 
To  their  full  stretch  his  talents  to  promote 
The  public  interest ;  every  state  exposed 
To  fewer  ills^  hereafter  might  he  blesU 

{Exit  ICBNJECEUS. 
CHORUS.  s 

ODE. 

I. 

O  winged  Fiend^  who  from'  the  Earth  ' 
And  an  infernal  Viper  drew^'dt  thy  birth,- 
Thou  cam'st/  thbtf  <$am'sty  to  beair  away> 
Amidst  incessani  groans^  thy  prey, 

And  harrass  Cadmus'  face, 
Thy  frantic  pinions  did  resound. 
Thy  fangs  impreas'd  the  ghastly  wouiid^ 
Thou  rnthlese^  monster  with  a  tirgin's  face : 
What  youths  from  Dirce's  fount  were  borne  aloof, 
While  thou  didst  utter  thy  discordant  song. 

The  Furies  haunted  every  roof. 
And  o'er  these  walls  sat  Slaughter  brooding  long. 
Sure  from  some  God  whose  breast  no  mercy  kuew, 
-   Their  source  impure  these  horrors  drew. 
From  house  to  bouse,  th6  cries 
Of  matrons  did  resound, 
And  wailing  maidens  rent  the  skies 
With  freqnent  shrieks  loud  as  the  tbunder't  burst. 

Oft  as  the  Sphybx  accurst, 
Some  youlh,  whoni  in  the  Theban  streets  she  founds 
Bore  high  in  air ;  all  gas;'d  in  wild  affiight, 
Till  she  vanished  from  their  sight 

11. 
At  length  the  Pythian  God'a  command 
Brought  Oediipu»  to  this  iU4fa^4  land; 

p  2 


tl2         THE  PBCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

Eadi  heart  did  then  with  transport  glow, 
Tho'  now  his  name  renew  their  woe : 

By  angry  Heaven  heguil'd. 
When  he  th'  csDigma  had  explain'd. 
His  Mother  for  a  Bride  he  gain'd ; 
With  incest  hence  the  oity  was  defil'd. 
Fresh  murders  soon  his  curses  will  inspire. 
Urging  his  Sons  to  an  unnatural  strife. 

We  that  heroic  youth  admire 
Who  in  his  country^s  cause  resigns  his  life. 
He,  the'  his  Father  Creon  wail  his  fate. 
With  triumph  in  the.  fell  debate. 
Will  crown  these  sevenfold  towers. 
Of  Heaven  I  ask  no  more 
Than  thaf  such  childrm  may  be  ours : 
Thy  aid,  O  Pallas,  in  th'  adventurous  deed 

Caus'd  Cadmus  to  succjbed, 
And  slay  the  Dragon,  whose  envenom'd  gore . 
Was  sprinkled  on  these  rocks;  by  Heaven's  cpiAmand 
Hence  some  pest  still  haunts  the  land. 

MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

MESSENGER. 

Who  at  the  portals  of  the  regal  dome 
Is  statioo'd  i  open,  bring  Jocasta  forth 
From  her  apartment.    Ho !  advance  at  length,  . 
And  listen  to  my  voice,  illustrious  Wife 
Of  Oedipus.    No  longer  grieve,  nor  shed. 
The  piteous  tear. 

JOCASTA,  MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

JOCASTA. 

Come  yon,  my  friend,  *to  bring 
Sad  tidings  of  Eteocles  the  slain, 
Beside  whose  shield  you  ever  stood  to  guard 
The  warrior  from  the  javelins  of  the  foe  ? 
With  what  important  message  are  you  charg'd  ? 
Is  my  Son  dead,  or  lives  he  ?  tell  me  all?  - 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         «13 

MESSENGER.  ^^ 

He  lives^  that  fear  be  baiiish'd. 

JOCASTA. 

Are  oar  walls 
By  their  seven  towers  secur'd  ? 

MESSENOEIL 

Tbcfy  still  remain 
Unshaken^  and  the  city  is  not  sacked* 

JOCASTA. 
Have  they  withstood  the  perilous  assault 
From  th'  Argive  combatants? 

MESSJBNGER. 

The  fate  of  battle 
Is  just  decided :  the  intrepid  race 
Of  Cadmus  o'er  Mycene's  host  prevaU'd, 

JOCASTA. 
Yet  one  thing  more;  I  by  th'  immortal  Powers 
Conjure  you>  tell  me  whether  you  know  aught 
Qf  Polynices,  for  I  wish  to  learn 
If  he  yet  live, 

MESSENGER. 

At  present  both  thy  Sons 
Are  living. 

JOCASTA, 

Bliss  attend  you :  but  inform  me 
How  ye  ti»e  troops  of  Argos  from  the  gates^ 
Beleaguered  in  the  turrets,  could  repell? 
That  to  my  home  with  speed  I  may  r^turn^ 
The  blind  and  aged  Oedipus  to  sooth 
With  the  glad  tidings  that  this  city's  saved. 

MESSENQEtt. 

Since  Creon's  Son,  who  for  his  country  died. 
Mounting  the  topmost  pinnacles,  transpierc'd 
His  bosom  with  the  falchion,  and  became    - 
The  generous  Saviour  of  his  native  land:- 
Eteocles  distributed  seven  cohorts 
At  the  seven  gates,  and  to  each  band  assigned 


€14         THE  SHfiEmCIAlSr  IXAMSEIS. 

Its  leader;  bj  their  v^gilAPee  to  check 

The  Airious  onset  of  the  Argive  ho^t; 

He  stationed  a  reserve  of  horse  to  succour 

The  horse*  and  infantry  with  bucklers  arm'd 

Behind  the  infantry,  that  where  the  walls 

Were  with  the  greatest  violence  assail'd 

Fresh  strength  ^ight  be  at  hand.     As  on  our  turrets 

We  stood  exaltedi  and  o'erlook'd  the  p]ain> 

The  Argive  host  we  saw,  with  silver  shields 

Conspicuous,  from  Teupaessu^'  mount  descend : 

Over  their  trenches  in  their  rapid  march 

Soon  vaulting,  to  the  city  they  drew  near. 

While  P»anS|  mingled  with  the  trumpet's  sound. 

At  the  same  instant  thro'  their  ranks  were  heard^ 

And  on  the  Thebs^n  walls.     Hip  squadron,  first. 

By  their  rais'd  targets  skreen'd,  which  cast  around 

A  horrid  sbf^le,  tp  the  Neitiaq  gate 

Parthenopssii^  led*  the  daring  Son 

Of  Atalanta;  on  his  central  shifld^ 

His  Mother's  trophy,  the -SEtolian  boar 

Pierc'd  by  that  huntress  with  unerring  shaft. 

The  chief  displajVI*     Amphiareus  the  Seer 

March'd  to  the  gates  of  Prastus,  on  bis  car 

Conveying  victims,  nq  iinseenily  pride 

In  his  arpiorial  beariogs  was  expre^s'd, 

But  on  his  modest  buckler  ther^  ^ppe^r'd 
A  vacant  (21)  §eld.    At  the  Ogyginn  portals 

(21)  From  the  psage  adopted  by  tlie  Heroes  of  Homer,  and^the  most 
antient  times,  of  recording  on  their  shields  either  the|r  own  exploits,  or 
those  of  their  ane^Ktors,  modem  armorial  bearngs  are  dedoced  1^  GmDIai 
and  pther  writers  who  have  treated  the  subject  of  Hen^ldry.  Amphia* 
reus  wearing  his  shield  entirely  plain,  is  accounted  for  in  the  same  maimer 
by  ^chylus,  from  whom  this  narrative  of  the  messenger  is  in  a  great 
measure  imitated, 

for  his  generous  soul  , 

Wishes  to  be,  not  to  appear  the  best.  Potter. 

Helenor  is  introduced  in  Virgil  with  a  shield  entirely  destitute  of  oma* 
pent  on  a  different  account,  as  being  the  spurious  aoii  of  a  Lydian  ktng 


THE  PHCBNICIAN  DAMSSDft.        m 

The  fierce  Hippomedon  maintain'd  his  stancl. 

By  this  atchievment  was  his  orbed  targe 

Distinguished  ;  Argus  with  unnumbered  eyes^ 

A  part  of  whicb^  awakening  fresh  from  sleep, 

Op'd  with  the  rising  stars,  meantime  the  rest 

He  with  the  setting  constellations  clos'd ; 

As  more  distinctly  when  the  chief  was  slain 

Might  be  discerned.    But  Tydeus  next  his  post 

Before  the  Homolaean  gate  maintained. 

With  a  huge  lion's  bristly  hide  his  shield 

Was  cover'd^  in  his  better  hand  a  torch 

He,  like  Prometheus  of  the  Titans'  race, 

Brandish'd  to  fire  the  city.  -  To  the  gate 

From  Dirce's  fountain  nam'd,  his  marshalled  troops 

Thy  son  the  furious  Polynices  led  ; 

The  rapid  mares  of  Potnia,  (the  device 

Portray'd  upon  his  target)  seem'd  to  leap 

With  panic  terrors  smitten,  and  grown  frantic. 

An  crowded  in  a  circle  to  the  rim. 

Equal  in  courage  to  the  Ood  of  War, 

Next  with  his  cohort  to  Electra's  gale 

Rush'd  Capaneus,  the  ensign  wrought  in  steel 

Upon  his  buckler,  was  an  earth-born  Qiant, 

Whose  shoulders  carried  a  whole  city  torn 

With  levers  from  its  basis,  to  denotjs 

The  menaced  fate  of  Thebes.    Adrastus*  self 

by  Lycimnia,  a  slave,  i|nd  consequently  having  |io  rij^t  ^vhatever  to  any 

such  distinctioD. 

Ense  levk  nudo,  pann&qnc  ingloriiis  albft« 

'*  Sligbt  vrtn  bis  9mm,  a  sword  and  silver  slueldi 

«  No  mariu  of  honour  charged  its  empty  field."  Dbvi»bii. 

HisMotiwravaittnghenelfof  thtfiivoiirof  her  royal  Fwamivr,  Mted 
contrary  to  the  hnvt  in  sending  her  son  to  the  war, 

^  A  privilege  whidi  none  bnt  freemen  share.* 

■ 

for  so  Dryden  paraphrases  vetitis  armis,  bat  did  not  encourage  him  to 
usurp  a  dbtinction  appropriated  to  those  who  eitiier  inherited  armorisl 
bearings  from  their  ancestors,  or  had  entitled  tfiemseives  by  their  own 
valour  to  assume  them. 


«16         TH^  PHCBNJCIAN  DAMSELS. 

At  the  («2^seventh  gate  appear'd ;  on  his  left  arm 
The  Hydra  with  an  hundred  snakes  begirt, 
Which  fiird  the  convex  surface  of  his  shield^ 
That  badge  of  Argive  pride,  the  warrior  bore ; 
From  Thebes,  surrounded  by  iu  lofty  walls. 
The  serpents  opening  their  voracious  jaws 
Conveyed  the  Sons  of  Cadmus.    Each  device 
I  could  observe  securely,  as  I  pass'd 
Betwixt  the  leaders  of  the  adverse  hosts, 
Distinguished  by  the  pledge  of  truce.    At  first 
We  at  a  distance  fought  with  bows  and  shafts. 
And  slings  and  stones ;  but  when  our  troops  obtained 
An  easy  conquest  in  this  missile  war, 
Tydeusi  and  Pulyoices  thy  brave  Son, 
Both  cried  at  the  same  instant,  *^  O  ye  race 
''  Of  Danaus,  ere  our  squadrons  are  dispers'd 
"  By  weapons  from  yon  lofty  turrets  hurl'd, 
'^  Why  on  the  portals  scruple  ye  to  make 
One  resolute  assault  with  all  our  strength. 
The  light-arm'd  troops,  our  horse,  and  brazen  cars  ?*' 
Soon  as  they  heard  their  leader's  cheering  voice, 
None  loiter'd,  but  full  many  a  valiant  Argive 
Was  thro'  the  brain  transpierc-d,  while  froni  the  walls 
Dke  skilful  divers,  our  expiring  friends 
Oft  threw  themselves;  the  thirsty  ground  with  streams 
Of  gore  they  drench'd.    Fierce  Atalanta's  Son, 
iNot  Argos,  but  Arcadia  gave  him  birth, 

(31)  The  attack  of  Uie  s^y^th  gate  in  JEschylos  ftU  to  the  lot  of  Po- 
lynices:  the  seyen  chiefi  are  hn  Euripides  the  sane,  bat  differenUy  dis- 
tributed; we  here  meet  with  the  Neitian,  Praetian,  Homolcean,  and 
Electran  gate,  but  not  the  Ogygyan,  or  tiiat  of  Kpivi  (rendered  in  the  La- 
tin Yerskm  Crenseam)  named  fhmi  the  fountain  Durce,  but  in  theur  stead 
we  ftid  in  .^schyhis  that  of  Boieaa  or  the  Northern  gate,  and  that  of 
Minerva  Onca,  ^^  ^ithet  to  that  Goddess,  of  which  Jackson  has  given 
the  foflowing  definition  in  his  Chronological  Antiquities^  <<  Onca  is  a 
**  Phoemcian  and  Arabian  word,  and  signifies  great  or  poweiful.  So  Mi* 
<<  nerva  was  the  oyxo,  the  great  aqd  powerful  Goddess,  both  of  Thebes 
H^  Athens.** 


THB  PHCBNICIAN  DAH^SBI^.  217 

Rush'd  like  a  whirlwind  to  the  gates,  and  call'd 
i^'or  flaming  brands  and  axes  to  destroy : 
But  PericlimenuSy  who  from  the  God 
Of  Ocean  sprung^  soon  quell'd  bis  frantic  rage, 
Torn  from  the  battlement,  a  stone,  whose  mass 
Hr^d  fiU'd  a  cbaiiot,  on  bis  head  he  threw. 
The  stripling^B  auburn  hair  and  crashing  skull 
It  sever'd,  and  those  rosy  cheeks  defil'd 
With  gushing  blood ;  to  the  maternal  arms 
Of  her  who  twangs  the  unerring  bow,  the  nymph 
Of  Maenalon,  he  never  shall  return. 
But  when  thy  Son  Eteocles  surveyed 
Our  triumphs  at  this  gate,  the  rest  with  speed 
He  visited  ;  I  foilow'd,   and  beheld 
Tydeus  attended  by  a  phalanx  arm'd 
With  bucklers,   hurling  their  ^tolian  spears 
Into  the  loftiest  towers,  with  such  success,  / 

That  they  constrain'd  our  fugitives  to  quit 
Their  station  on  the  ramparts  ?  but  thy  Son 
Rallied  them  like  a  hunter,  and  collected 
Each  warrior  to  resume  his  post ;  their  fears 
Dispeird,  we  hasted  to  another  gate. 
But  in  what  terms  shall  I  describe  the  madness 
Of  Capaneus  i   he  with  a  ladder  came 
And  boasted  that  not  e'en  the  lightning  lannch'd 
By  Jove's  own  hand,  should  hinder  him  from  scaling . 
The  towers^  to  sack  the  city.     Thus  he  spoke; 
And  midst  a  storm  of  stones,   from  step  to  step 
Ascending,   still  sufficient  shelter  found 
Beneath  the  huge  circumference  of  his  shield ; 
.  But  a»  he  reach'd  the  summit  of  the  wall 
Jove  smote  him  with  a  thunderbolt,  earth  gave 
A  sound  so  loud  that  all  were  seiz'd  with  terror; 
As  from  a  sling,  his  scatter'd  limbs  were  thrown, 
His  blasted  tresses  mounted  to  the  skies. 
On  earth  his  blood  was  sprinkled,  but  his  hands 
And  feet  were^  like  Ixion  on  the  wheel. 


(^18         THE  imCBNICrAN  BAffif6£]»; 

Whirl'd  with  incessant  motion^  till  at  length 

Down  to  the  ground  he  fell  a  smouldering  corse. 

Soon  as  Adrastus  saw  Jove  warr'd  against  hin^ 

He  with  his  Argive  host  in  swift  retreat 

Again  the  trenches  cross'd  :  but  when  our  troops 

Mark'd  the  auspicious  sign  vou^hsaf  M  bj  Jove^ 

They  from  the  gates  rushed  forth  with  brazen  cars^ 

With  cavalry  in  ponderous  arms  arrays. 

And  midst  the  Argive  squadrons  hurl'd  their  spears : 

Each  ill  concurr'd  to  overwhelm  the  foe. 

Death  rag'd  ambngst  them,  from  their  chariots  thrown 

They  perish'd,  wheels  flew  off,  'gainst  axle  crash'd 

Axle,  and  corses  were  on  corses  heap'd. 

The  Theban  turrets  we  this  day  have  sav'd- 

From  rqin,  but  to  the  immortal  powers. 

And  them  alone,  belongs  it  to  decide 

Whether  auspicious  Fortune  on  this  land 

Shall  so^ile  hereafter. 

CHORUS. 

In  th'  embattled  field 
Tis  glorious  to  prevail :  but  were  the  Gods 
More  favorably  dispos'd,  I  should  enjoy 
A  greater  share  of  bliss. 

JOCASTA. 

The  Gods  and  Fortune 
Have  amply  done  their  part ;  for  both  my  Sons 
Are  living,  and  the  city  hath  escap'd  :        . 
Unhappy  Creon  only  seems  to  reap 
The  bitter  fruits  of  my  accursed  nuptials  • 
With  Oedipus,  for  he  hath  lost  his  son. 
And  such  event,  tho'  fortunate  for  Thebes, 
To  him  is  grievous.     In  your  tide  proceed- 
Say  on ;  what  farther  have  my  sons  r^olv'd  ? 

MESSENGER. 

The  sequel  wave ;  for  all  with  thee  thus  far 
Goes  prosperously.  * 


TBe^HCENICIAN  OAMSBLS.   ,     219 

t 

JOCASTA. 

These  words  but  serre  to  raise 
Suspicion :  nothing  must  be  left  imtold^ 

MB8S£NG£R, 

What  would'st  thou  more  than  that  thy  cons  are  safe  I 

JOGA8TA. 

But  whether  my  good  fortnne  will  prove  lasting 
I  wish  to  know. 

MfiSSENOER, 

Release  me :  for  thy  Son 
Is  left  without  his  shield-bearer. 

JOGA8TA, 

Some  ill 
In  mystic  darkness  wrapt  you  strive  to  hide. 

MESSENGER, 

I  to  these  welcome  tidings  cannot  add 
Such  as  would  make  thee  wretched. 

JOCA8TA. 

No  way  left. 
Unless  you  thro'  the  air  could  wing  your  flighty 
Have  you  to  scape  me. 

MESSENGER. 

After  this  glad  message 
Why  wilt  thou  not  allow  me  to  depart, 
Rather  than  speak  of  grievous  ills  i  thy  Sons 
Are  both  resolv'd  on  a  most  impious  deed. 
Apart  from  either  army  to  engage 
In  single  combat,  to  the  Argive  troops 
And  the  assembled  citizens  of  Thebes 
Have  they  address'd  such  language  as  neVr  ought 
To  reach  their  ears.     Eteocles  began. 
Above  the  field  high  on  a  tower  he  stood. 
Commanding  silence  6rst  to  be  proclaimed 
Thro*  all  the  host,  and  cried  ;  "  O  peerless  Chiefs 
'^  Of  the  Achaian  land,  who,  to  invade 
**  This  city,  from  the  realms  of  Danaus  come, 
'*  And  ye  who  spring  from  Civdmus,  in  the  cause 


420  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSEIS: 

'*  Of  Polynices,  barter  not  your  lives, 

"  Nor  yet  on  my  behalf;   I  hom  such  dangers 

''  To  save  you,  with  my  Brother  will  engage 

*^  In  single  combat,  and  if  him  I  slay 

"  Here  in  this  palace  shall  I  resign  alone, 

**  But  I  to  him  the  city  will  yield  up 

"  If  I  am  vanquished  :  from  the  bloody  strife 

*^  Desisting,  ye  ^o  Argos  (^3)  shall  return 

*'  Nor  perish  in  a  foreign  land  :  enough 

*'  Of  Thebans  too  on  this  ensanguin'd  plain 

"  Lie  breathless  corses/*    With  these  words  his  speech 

The  dauntless  Chief  concluded.    From  the  ranks, 

Thy  offspring,  Polynices,  then  advanced 

And  the  proposal  prais'd,  while,  with  a  shout. 

The  Argive  and  the  Theban  hosts,  who  deem'd 

Such  combat  just,  their  public  sanction  gave. 

Then  was  the  truce  agreed  on ;  twixt  both  hosts 

The  generals  met,  and  by  a  solemn  oath 

Engag'd  themselves  the  compact  to  fulfill. 

In  brazen  panoply,  without  delay 

The  sons  of  aged  Oedipus  were  cjad. 

His  friends,  the  noblest  Theban  youths,  equipped 

The  ruler  of  this  land,  the  Argive  chiefs 

Arm'd  his  antagonist,  both  stood  conspicuous 

In  glittering  mail,  their  looks  betray'd  no  change. 

And  at  each  other's  breast  with  frantic  rage     j 

They  long'd  to  hurl  the  spear:  meantime  their  friends 

Pass'd  by,  and  with  these  words  their  courage  rous'd ; 

On  thee,  O  Polynices,  it  depends 

To  rear  an  image  of  triumphant  Jove, 

And  add  fresh  glories  to  the  Argive  state/' 
But  to  Eteocles  they  cried ;  '*  Thou  fight'st 

The  battles  of  tby  native  land,  obtain 


€€ 


U 


(23)  ''  Euripides  has  here  a  view  to  Homer;  -*—  m  It  ntsaOun  A^yv  cr 
*^  aaa&iifn.  II.  ill.  v.  74  \  and  from  the  same  part  of  Homer's  poem,  wber^ 
^  Paris  cbanenges  Meneiaus  to  single  combat^  he  hath  hither  lU^e^'ise 
*^  traiMfilBiited  other  images.*    Vakkbnae^*' 


THE  PHCENICUN-  DiUISELSi         22 1 

'^  A  conquest,  and  tbe  sceptre  will  be  thine."* 
Exhorting  them  to  combat  thus  they  spoke. 
Meanwhile  the  aeers  the  fleecy  victims  slew. 
Drew  forth  the  reeking  entrails,  and  observ'd 
Whether  the  flames  by  unpropitious  damps 
Were  check'd,  or  mounted  in  a  spiral  blaze. 
The  twofold  signs  of  victory  or  defeat. 
But  if  thou  canst  do  aught  by  sage  advice 
Or  magic  incantation,  go,  dissuade 
Thy  Sons  from  this  accursed  strife  ;  the  danger 
Is  imminent,  and  horror  must  attend 
On  such  a  conflict :  with  abundant  tears 
Wilt  thou  bewail  their  fate,  if  thou  thb  day 
Of  both  thy  sons  art  reft, 

JOCAl^TA. 

Come  forth,  my  Daughter, 
Antigone,  thy  fortunes  now  are  such 
As  will  not  suffer  thee  to  lead  the  dance 
Amid  thy  virgin  train,  thou,  with  thy  mother. 
Must  hasten  to  prevent  two  valiant  youths. 
Thy  Brothers,  rushing  upon  instant  death, 
Else  will  they  perish  by  each  other's  hand. 

ANTIGONE,  JOCAOTA,  CHORUS. 

AKTIGpN]^  •         ^ 

Before  these  gates,  my  .Mother,  with  what  sounds 
Of  recent  horror  coip'st  thovi  to  alarm 
Thy  friends. 

J0CA3TA. 

Ere  now,  my  Daughter,  both  thy  Brothers 
Have  lost  their  lives. 

ANTIGpNE. 

What  sfty!st  thou  ? 

JOCASTA. 

Thev  went  forth 

•   •  • 

Resolved  on  single  combat.  ... 


im,         THB  PH(£NICIAK  SASfSE&S; 

ANTMKmE. 

Wretched  im! 
What  more  hait  thou,  O  Motbtr,  to  relate? 

JOCA8TA. 

Nought  that  can  give  thee  joy^  bat  follow  me^ 

ANTIGONB. 

Say  whither  mast  I  go>  and  leave  behind 
My  virgin  comrades? 

J6€AS7A. 

Tothebost^ 

AHTIGOKE. 

I  blttob 
To  mingle  with  the  crowd. 

JOCASTA. 

These  bashful  fears 
Are  such  as  in  thy  present  situation 
Become  thee  not. 

ANTI60N£. 

How  can  my  help  avail? 

JOCASTA. 
Thou  haply  may'st  appease  this  impious  strife 
Betwixt  thy  Brothers. 

ANTIGONE. 

Mother,  by  what  means  ? 

.  JOCASTA. 

By  falling  prostrate  «t  th^li*  ftoees  with  me. 

ANtlGONE. 
Lead  on  betwixt  the  van  of  either  host. 
This  crisis  will  admit  of  no  delay. 

JOCASTA. 
Haite,  O  my  Daughter,  haste,  for  if  my  Sons 
I  haply  can  prevent  ere  they  begin 
Th'  accurst  encounter,  I  shall  yet  behold 
The  blessed  sun;  (24)'but  if  I  find  them  slain 

(24)  The  Une  ify  V  vi^pi^^,  otf^ofAuBa,  KMftmt,  which  stands  io  most 
editioas  as  the  last  hut  one  of  this  spe^  is  omitted  l^y  Ototins,  Yidke- 


THEPHCENICTAN  DAMSEES.  fiSS 

I 

With  them  will  I  partake  cme  eommon  grave*  . 

{.Exeunt  jocasta  and  antigove. 

CHORUS, 

O      D     E.       . 

I. 

Ah,  what  boding  horror  throws 

Chilling  damps  into  my  breast^ 

How  is  this  whole  frame  opprest 
By  sympathetic  pity  for  the  woes 
Of  her  who  to  those  valiant  youths  gave  birth : 

But  which  of  her  lov'd  Children  twain 

His  sword  with  kindred  gore  shall  stain, 
CAvert  it,  righteous  Jove,  and  thoti>  O  genial  Earth !) 

And  in  the  strife  a  Brother  slay. 
The  stroke  descending  thro'  bis  clovenf  shield? 
To  whom  the  sad  last  tribute  shall  I  pay 
A  breathless  corse  stretcht  weltering  on  the  field  ? 

Woe  to  thee,  thou  Theban  ground  ! 

Those  twin  lions  firM  with  rage 

Couch  their  lances  to  engage. 
And  stand  prepar'd  to  aim  the  deadly  wound. 
In  evil  hour  the  thought  of  single  fight 

Enter'd  their  souTs.    While  many  a  tear 

Shuddering  witK  excess  of  fear 
For  them  I  vainly  shed,  their  dirge  will  I  recite 

Tho'  in  a  harsh  Barbaric,  strain  ; 
Their  destin'd^  portion  slaughter  is  at  bandj 
Ere  Phoebus  sinks  into  the  western  main 
Their  forfeit  lives  the  Furies  shall  demand. 

naer.  Dr.  Musgrave,  aaniBmnck,  on  Hie  authority,  as  ap|>ear9  from  their 
notes,  of  more  than  one  antisDt  iBunocr^t.  In  another  part  of  thislVt- 
gedy,  ver.  983.  ed.  Barnes,  Creon  closes  his  advice  to  Menaeceus  to  es- 
cape with  all  speed  from  Thebes  with  these  very  words,  which,  as  Val- 
kenaer  observes,  there  come  in  with  great  propriety,  but  are  here  foreign 
to  the  context^  attd  fattve  every  appearance  of  being  iaterpolated. 


a24  THE  PHCENICIAN  JOAMSELS. 

But  I  uiy  warbled  lamentations  ceaie. 
For  with  a  brow  by  clouds  of  grief  o'ercast, 
Creon,  approaching  these  abodes^  I  view. 

CREON,  CHORUS. 

CREON. 

Ah  me !  shall  I  bewail  my  {private  woes 
Or  those  of  Thebes  surrounded  by  such  clouds 
As  Acheron  exhaks!     My  valiant  Son 
Died  for  his  country,  an  illustrious  name 
Obtaining,  but  to  me  a  source  of  grief. 
That  self-devoted  victim's  mangled  corse   ■ 
I,  from  yon  rock,  the  Dragon's  curst  abode^   , 
Wretch  that  I  am,  have  in  these  hands  just  biH'ne: 
With  lamentations  my  whole  house  resounds. 
I  a  forlorn  old  man,  my  aged  sister 
Jocasta,  come  to;  fetch,  that  she  may  lave. 
And  on  the  decent  bier  stretch  forth  the  corse 
Of  my  departed  Son.     For  it  behoves 
The  living,  by  bestowing  on  the  dead. 
Funereal  honors,  to  adore  the  God 
Who  rules  in  hell  beneath. 

CHORUS. 

From  these  abodes^ 
O  Creon,  is  your  Sister  just  gone  forth. 
And  on  her  Mother's  footsteps  did  iattend 
The  nymph  Antigone. 

CREON^ 

Inform  me,  whither. 
And  to  what  scene  of  recent  woe? 

CHORUS. 

She  heard 
Her  Sons  by  single  combat  were  re^oly'd 
Their  contest  for  this  palace  to  decide. 

CREON. 

.*'  What  say'st  thou  ?  I  came  hither  but  to  grace 
With  due  sepulchral  rites  my  breathless  Sou, 


•  ..^ 


THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS.  2i5 

Nor  of  these  fresh  disasters  thought  to  hear. 

CHORUS. 
'Tis  a  long  time,  O  Creoii,  since  your  Sister 
Went  hence;  ere  now  I  deem  the  fatal  strife 
Betwixt  the  sons  of  Oedipus  is  ended. 

CREON. 

Ah  me  !  an  evil  omen  I  behold 
In  that  deep  gloom  which  overcasts  the  eyes 
And  visage  of  yon  messenger ;  he  comes. 
No  doubt,  the  whole  transaction  to  relate. 


MESSENGER,  CREON,  CHORUS. 


^ 


MESSENGER. 

Wretch  that  I  am  !  wBat  language  can  I  find  ? 

CREON. 

We  are  undone;  for  with  a  luckless  prelude 
Thj'  speech  begins. 

MESSENGER. 

I  yet  again  exclaim, 
Ah,  wretched  me  !  most  grievous  are  the  tidiftgs 
I  bring. 

CEEON. 

Of  any  farther  ills  than  those 
Which  have  already  happen'd,  would'st  thou  speak  ? 

MESSENGER.  > 

Your  Sister's  Sons,  O  Creon,  are  no  more. 

CREON. 

Great  are  the  woes,  alas !  which  thou  relat'sl. 
To  me,  and  to  this  city. 

MESSENGER.  .    ' 

Hast  thou  heard, 

O  house  of  Oedipus,  how  both  his  Sons 

Partook  one  common  fate  ? 

CHORUS. 

These  very  walls. 

Were  they  endued  with  s^nse,  would  shed  a  tear. 

VOL.  1,  9 


«' 


«26         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSEW. 

CREON. 

Oh,  what  a  load  of  misery !  wretched  me 

MES3ENGER. 

Did  you  but  know  of  your  fresh  ills— 

CREON* 

Could  Fate. 
Have  any  ills  more  grievous  in  reserve  ? 

MESSENGER. 

With  her  two  Sons  your  wretched  Sister's  dead. 

CHORUS. 

In  concert  wake>  my  friends^  the  plaintive  strain^ 
And  smite  your  heads  with  those  uplifted  bands. 

CREON. 

Hapless  Jocasta,  what  a  close  of  life 
And  wedlock,  thro'  th*  acnigma  of  the  Sphinx, 
Hast  thou  experiencM !  but  how  both  her  Sons' 
Were  slain  in  that  dire  contest,  thro*  the  curses 
Pronounced  by  Oedipus  their  injur'd  Sire, 
Inform  me* 

MESSENGER. 

How  Thebes  triumphed  o*er  th*  assailants. 
And  her  beleaguered  turrets  sav*d,  you  know ; 
Nor  are  the  walls  so  distant,  but  from  thence 
Ere  now  those  great  events  you  must  have  heard. 
Soon  as  in  brazen  panoply  the  Sons 
Of  aged  Oedipus  were  clad,  they  stood 
In  the  mid  way  twixt  either  host,  (25)  Kings  both, 
Of  mighty  hosts  both  Chieftains,  to  decide 
This  strife  in  single  combat*    Then  his  eyes 
Towards  Argos  turning,  Polynices  pray*d; 
"  O  Juno,  aweful  Queen,  for  I  became 
''  Thy  votary,  since  the  daughter  of  Adrastus 
'^  I  wedded,  and  in  hi9  dominions  found 
'*  An  habitation ;  grant  that  I  may  slay 

^%S)  By  reading  with  Dr.  Mu^pinre  in  las  note  on  this  verse  Tufum^ 
in  the  stead  of  ^g<^^?yw>  we  avoid  tlie  tautology  which  has  induced  VirilT- 
lueaaer  tolal^  to  proscribe  it :  KIpgpvppofSSalfMw. 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS;         c!27 

''  My  Brother,  and  with  kindred  gore  distaio 
''  In  the  dire  conflict  this  victorious  arm. 
"  For  an  unseemly  wreath,  nor  to  be  gain*d 
''  Unless  I  take  away  the  life  of  him 
"  Who  springs  from  the  same  parents,  I  to  thee 
"  My  vows  address  ;" — tears  burst  forth  in  a  stream 
Equal  to  the  calamity  they  wail'd, 
From  multitudes  who  on  each  other  gaz'd. 
Eteocles,  then  turning  to  the  fane 
Of  Pallas  Goddess  of  the  golden  shield, 
Exclaimed  ;  *'  O  Daughter  of  imperial  Jove, 
"  Grant  me  with  vigorous  arm  a  conquering  spear 
'^  To  hurl  against  my  Brother's  breast,  and  smite 
'*  The  Man  who  comes  to  lay  my  country  waste  " 
But  when  Etruria*s  trumpet  with  shrill  voice 
Had,  like  the  kindled  torch,  a  signal  given. 
The  Combat  to  begin,  with  dreadful  rage 
Against  each  other  rushing,  like  two  boars 
Whetting  their  ruthless  tusks,  they  fought  till  foam 
O'erspread  their  cheeks;  with  pointed  spears  they  made 
A  furious  onset ;  but  each  warrior  stoop'd 
Behind  his  brazen  target,  and  the  weapon 
Was  aim'd  in  vain  ;  whene'er  above  the  rim 
Of  his  huge  buckler,  either  Chief  beheld 
The  face  of  his  antagonist,  he  strove 
To  pierce  it  with  his  spear;  but  thro'  the  holes 
Bor*d  in  the  center  of  their  shields,  they  both 
With  caution  look'd,  nor  could  inflict  a  wound 
By  the  protended  javelin.     A  cold  sweat 
Thro*  terror  for  the  safety  of  their  friends, 
From  every  pore  of  those  who  viewed  the  fight. 
Far  more  than  from  the  combatants,  arose. 
But  stumbling  on  a  stone  beneath  his  i^et, 
Eteocles  had  chanc'd  to  leave  one  leg 
Unguarded  by  his  shield  ;  then  onward  rushed 
Fierce  Polynices  with  his  lifted  spear. 
And  marking  where  he  at  the  part  expo^'d 

q2 


228  THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

Most  surely  might  direct  the  stroke,  his  ankle 

Pierc'd  with  an  Argive  weapon,  while  the  race 

Of  Danaus  gave  an  universal  shout. 

But  iu  this  struggle,  when  the  Chief  who  first 

Was  wounded,  saw  the  shoulder  of  his  foe 

Laid  bare ;  he  into  Polynices*  breast. 

His  utmost  force  exerting,  thrust  his  spear. 

Again  the  citizens  of  Thebes  rejoic'd ; 

But  at  the  point  his  weapon  broke :  disarm'd 

Backwards  he  sunk,  and  on  one  knee  sustained 

The  weight  of  his  whole  body ;  from  the  ground 

Meantime  the  fragment  of  a  massive  rock 

Uprearing,  he  at  Polynices  threw. 

And  smote  his  shiverM  javelin.     Of  their  spears 

Now  both  depriv*d,  on  equal  terms  they  fought 

With  their  drawn  falchions  hand  to  hand,  the  din 

Of  war  resounded  from  their  crashing  shields. 

Then  haply  to  Eteocles  occurred 

A  stratagem  in  Thessaly  devis'd. 

Which  thro'  bis  frequent  commerce  with  that  land 

He  had  adopted ;  from  the  stubborn  fight^ 

As  if  disabled,  seeming  to  retire. 

His  left  leg  he  drew  back,  but  with  his  shield 

Guarded  his  flank,  on  his  right  foot  sprung  forward^ 

Plungy  in  the  navel  of  the  foe  his  sword. 

And  pierc'd  the  spinal  joint,  his  sides;  thro'  pain 

Now  writhing,  Polynices  fell,  with  drops 

Of  gore  the  earth  distaining.     But  his  brother. 

As  if  he  in  the  combat  had  obtained 

Decisive  victory,  casting  on  the  ground 

His  falchion,  tore  the  glittering  spoils,  away. 

Fixing  his  thoughts  on  those  alone,  and  blind 

To  his  own  safety;  hence  was  he  deceived: 

For  still  with  a  small  portion  of  the  breath 

Of  life  endued,  fallen  Polynices,  grasping 

His  sword  e'en  in  the.agonies  of  death. 

The  liver  of  Etepclcf  transpierc'd. 


THE  PH<ENICIAN  DAMSELS.         £^ 

With  furious  teeth  they  rend  the  crimson  soil. 
And  prostrate  by  each  other's  side  have  left 
The  conquest  dubious. 

€REON. 

Mudi,  alas!  thy  woes 
Do  I  bewail,  for  by  the  strictest  ties 
With  thee,  O  Oedipus,  am  I  connected  : 
An'angry  God^  too  plainly  it  appears. 
Thy  imprecations  hath  fulfilPd. 

MESSENGER. 

What  woes  ' 

Succeeffid  these,  now  hear.     As  both  her  Sons. 
Expiring  lay,  with  an  impetuous  step. 
Attended  by  Antigone,  rush'd  forth 
The  wretched  mother :  pierc*d  with  deadly  wounds 
Beholding  them;  *' My  children,"  she  exclaim'd 
"  Too  late  to  your  assistance  am  I  come." 
Embracing  each  by  turns,  she  then  bewail'd 
The  toil  with  which  she  at  her  breast  in  vain 
Had  nurtur'd  them.     She  ended  with  a  groan. 
In  which  their  sister  join*d ;  "  O  ye  who  cherish'd 
'*  A  drooping  mother^s  age,  my  nuptial  rites, 
"  Dear  Brothers,  ere  the  hymeneal  morn 
*'  Have  ye  deserted.'*    From  his  inmost  breast 
Eteocles  with  difficulty  breath'd ; 
His  mother's  voice  however  reach'd  his  ear. 
And  stretching  forth  his  clammy  hand,  no  wotds 
Had  he  to  utter,  but  his  swimming  eyes 
Shed  tears  expressive  of  his  filial  love. 
But  Polynices,  whose  lungs  still  performed 
Their  functions,  gazing  on  his  aged  Mother  * 

And  Sister,  cried  ^  "  O  Mother,  we  are  lost> 

I  pity  thee,  my  Sister  too  I  pity,  •      •  . 

And  my  slain  Brother,' for  altho'  that  friend  ' 
**  Became  a  foe^,  this  heart  still  holds  him  d^'ar.  ' ! 

*'  But  bury  me,  O  thou  who.  gav'st  fne  Vj.rth^.i 
'/  And  my  lov'd  Sister^  iu^Mj  OAti}m  kuidv;  >  • :.  .v 


230  TfHE  PHCEMCIAN  DAMSELS. 

*'  Your  mediatioDi  to  appease  the  city 

*'  Uniting,  that  of  my  paternal  soil 

''  Enough  for  a  poor  grave  I  may  obtain, 

"  Tho'  I  have  lost  the  empire.     Close  these  eyes 

'*  With  thy  maternal  hand/'  (her  hand  he  plac'd 

Over  his  eye-lids)  *^  and  farewell:  the  shades 

''  Of  night  already  compass  me  around." 

Their  miserable  souls  they  both  breath'd  forth 

At  the  same  instant.    When  their  mother  saw 

This  fresh  calamity,  no  longer  able 

The  weight  of  her  afflictions  to  sustain. 

She  from  the  corses  of  her  Sons  snatch'd  up  Si 

(26)  A  sword>  and  an  atrocious  deed  performed ; 

For  thro'  her  neck  the  painted  steel  she  drove, 

And  lies  in  de^th  twi^t  those  she  held  most  dear. 

E'en  now  embracing  both.     A  strife  of  words 

Broke  forth  in  the  two  armies ;  we  maintain'd 

The  triumph  to  our  King  belonged ;  but  they 

To  his  antagonist.    Amid  the  chiefs    ; 

A  vehement  contention  rose ;  some  urg'd 

That  Polynices'  spear  first  galve  the  wouqd; 

Others,  that  since  both  combatants  were  slain 

The  victory  still  was  dubious.     From  the  lin^s 

Of  battle  now  Antigone  retir'd ; 

They  rush'd  to  arms  ;  but  with  auspicious  forethojug^t 

The  progeny  of  Cadmus  had  nolthrowa    ^  .  ;  r 

Their  shields  aside:  we  in  an  instant  ma4^  ..  A 

A  fierce  assault,  invading  by  surprizje  j 

The  host  of  Argps  yet  unsheath'd  in  mail; .  , 

Not  one  withstood  the  shock,  they  p'^  die  §eld  f 

In  a  tumultuous  flight  were  scatter'd  wid^ : .  , 


\r. 


(S6)  Hpm€r  and  Sophocles  concor  in  representing  Jocdi^t^  au  having 
put  an  end  to  her  life  by  hanging  herself;  bift  Euripides -has  jUificiously 
assigned  tQ  ^a^te  mnch  more  suitable  both  to  her  IMgHrwltfiiM  ttie 
dignity  of  ttt^  Tragic  Muse,  and  has  herein  been  followed  by  i^tfNtins.iD 
his  Epic  poem  the  Thebaid,  as  weU  as  by  Seneca  and  CorneUle  i^  thfir 
Tragedies  foondied  on  tiie  histdry  of  Oedipus,  and  ^  gredt'  VaH^ty  of 
other  dramatic  wtatei9iilH>lw¥etr«atedtlwiiM9eet.-       ■['•■  '-^"f' 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         £S1 

Gore  streamed  from  many  a  corse  of  those  who  fell 
Beneath  our  spears.     No  sooner  had  we  gain'd 
A  victory  in  tne  combat,  than  some  rear'd 
The  statue  of  imperial  Jove^  adorn'd 
With  trophies ;  others^  stripping  off  the  shields 
Of  the  slain  Argives^  lodg'd  within  the  walls 
Our  plunder:  with  Antigone,  the  rest 
Bring  hither  the  remains  of  the  deceas'd. 
That  o'er  them  every  friend  may  shed  a  tear. 
For  to  the  city  hath  this  conflict  proved 
In  part  the  most  auspicious,  but  in  part 
The  source  of  grievous  ills. 

CHORUS. 

By  fame  alone 
No  longer  are  the  miseries  which  this  house 
Have  visited,  made  public ;  at  the  gates 
Are  the  three  corses  to  be  seen,  of  those 
Who,  by  one  common  death,  have  in  the  shades 
Of  everlasting  night  their  portion  found. 

ANTIGONE,  CREON,  CHORUS- 

ANTIGONE. 

The  wavy  ringlets  o'er  my  tender  cheeks 
I  cease  to  spread,  regardless  of  the  blush 
Which  tinges  with  a  crimson  hue  the  face 
Of  virgins.    Onward  am  I  borne  with  speed 
Like  the  distracted  A^snades,  not  busied 
In  Bacchus'  rites,  but  Pluto's,  from  my  hair 
Rending  the  golden  cawl,  and  casting  off 
The  saffron  robe;  o'er  the  funereal  pomp  *»  - 

(Ah  me !)  presiding.    Well  hast  thou  deserv*d 
Thy  name,  O  Polynices,  (wretched  Thebes !) 
For  thine  was  not  a  vulgar  strife,  but  murder 
Retaliated  by  murder  hath  destroy'd 
The  house  of  Oedipus;  the  source  whepce  streato'd 
Fraternal  gore  was  parricide.    But  whom 


252  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

Shall  I  invoke  to  lead  the  tuneful  dirge. 

Or  in  what  plaints,  taught  by  the  Tragic  Muse, 

Solicit  yonder  vaulted  roofs  to  join 

With  me  in  tears,  while  hither  I  conduct 

Three  kindred  corses  smear'd  with  gore,  to  add 

Fresh  triumphs  to  that  Fury  who  mark'd  out 

For  total  ruin  the  devoted  house 

Of  thee,  O  Oedipus,  whose  luckless  skill 

That  intricate  aenigma  did  unfold. 

And  slay  the  Sphinx  who  chanted  it  ?     My  Sire ! 

What  Grecian,  wh^t  Barbarian^  or  what  Chief 

In  antient  days  illustrious,  who  that  sprung 

From  human  race,  hath  e*er  endur'd  such  ills 

As  thou  hast  done,  such  public  griefs  endur'd  f 

Seated  upon  the  topmost  spray  of  oak 

Of  branching  pine,  the  bird,  who  just  lost 

Its  mother,  (27)  wakes  a  sympathetic  song 

Of  plaints  and  anguish :  thus  o'er  the  deceas'd 

Lamenting,  I  in  solitude  shall  waste 

The  remnant  of  my  life  midst  gushing  tears. 

O'er  whom  shall  I  first  cast  the  tresses  rent 

From  these  disfigured  brows,  upon  the  breasts 

Of  her  who  with  maternal  love  sustain'd 

My  childhood,  or  my  Brothers*  ghastly  wounds? 

Ho!  Oedipus,  Qome  forth  from  thy  abode,  ' 

Blind  as  thoq  art,  my  aged  Sire,  display 

Thy  wretchedness;  Othou  who,  having  veil'd 

With  thickest  darkness  those  extinguished  eyes. 

Beneath  yon  roof  a  tedious  life  prolong'st : 

Hear'st  thou  my  voice,  O  thou  who  thro'  the  hall 

Oft  mov'st  at  random,  and  as  oft  reliev'st 

Thy  wearied  feet  on  the  unwelcome  couch  ? 

(1^7)  The  reading  of  the  Aldns,  Basil,  and  Heidelberg  editiom,  lUktju 
without  ^ny  punctuation  following,  which  I  have  adppted,  has  been  re> 
vived  by  CarmeUi  and  Reiskius. 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSEES.  S3.3 

OEDIPUS,  ANTIGONE,  CREON,  CHORUS. 

OEDIPUS. 

Why,  O  my  Daughter,  hast  thou  callM  me  forth, 
A  wretch,  who  by  this  faithful  staff  supply 
The  want  of  siglit,  to  the  loath'd  glare  of  day. 
From  a  dark  chamber,  where  I  to  my  bed 
Have  been  confin'd  ;  thro'  those  incessant  tears, 
My  woes  extort,  grown  (28)  grey  before  my  time. 
And  wasted  by.  affliction,  till  I  seem 
As  unsubstantial  as  the  ambient  air, 
A  spectre  rising  from  the  realms  beneath. 
Or  winged  dream  ? 

ANTIGONE. 
Prepare  thyself  to  hear 
The  inauspicious  tidings  I  relate  :. 
Thy  Sons,  thy  Consort  too,  the  faithful  staff 
Of  thy  blind  footsteps  and  their  constant  guide. 
No  longer  view  the  Sun.     Alas,  my  Sire  ! 

OEDIPUS. 
Ah  me !  the  woes  I  suffer  call  forth  groans 
And  shrieks  abundant :  but  inform  me  how 
These  three,  O  Daughter,  left  the  realms  of  light. 

ANTIGONE. 

Not  to  reproach  thee,  or  insult  thy  woes. 
My  Father,  but  in  sadness  do  I  speak ; 
Thy  evil  Genius,  laden  with  the  sword 
With  blazing  torches  and  with  impious  war, 
Rush'd  on  thy  Sons. 

OEDIPUS. 
Ah  me ! 

ANTIGONE.     ^ 

Why  groan'st  thou  thus? 
OEDIPUS. 

For  my  dear  Sons. 

(28)  The  comma,  I  apprehend,  ought  to  be  placed  after  sro>^,  in- 
stead of  after  iaytoyoi^.  In  Dr.  Musgravc's  edition,  a  punctuation  t&  sub- 
jdiied  to  each  of  those  words  ^  \trhich  seeais  needless. 


S34         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

ANTIGONE. 

Twould  aggravate  thy  griefs. 
If  tliou  with  eye-sight  wert  again  endued. 
The  chariot  of  the  Sun,  and  these  remains 
Of  the  deceas'd,  to  view. 

OEDIPUS. 

How  both  my  Sons 
Have  lost  their  hves,  is  evident :  but  say. 
To  what  my  Consort  owes  her  piteous  fate? 

ANTIGONE. 

Her  tears  were  seen  by  all ;  her  breasts  she  bar'd 
A  suppliant  to  her  Sons,  whom,  near  the  gate 
Electra,  in  the  mead  she  found  where  springs 
The  lotus  ;  like  two  lions  for  a  den 
With  spears  had  they  been  fighting :  from  their  wounds. 
Now  stiff  and  cold,  scarce  ooz^d  the  clotted  gore. 
Which  Mars  for  a  libation  had  be&tow'd 
On  iiithless  Pluto:  snatching  from  the  dead 
A  brazen  sword,  she  plung'd  it  in  her  breast : 
Slain  by  the  luckless  (29)  weapon  of  her  Sons,  - 
Close  to  her  Sons  thus  fell  she.     On  this  day 
The  God  who  wrought  such  horrors,  O  my  Sirc^ 
Hath  pour'd  forth  his  collected  stores  of  wrath 
On  this  devoted  house, 

CHORUS. 

This  day  hath  proved 
A  source  of  many  evils  to  the  house 
Of  Oedipus  {  may  more  auspicious  fates 
On  the  remainder  of  his  lifePattend  ! 

CREON. 

Your  lamentations  cease,  for  it  is  time 
To  mention  the  interment  of  the  dead.— 

(2^)  The  Aldus  reading  of  Ax«,  pne  dolore,  and  that  of  Cant^ms 
Brf^ty  prope^  which  is  adopted  by  Barnes,  King,  and  others,  ben^both 
iat  from  satisfactory ;  Dr.  Miisgrave  conjectures  A9yx.»»,  telo,  and  is  aU 
l«wed  by  Brunck  to  have  discovered  the  meaning,  though  not  the  wprd^ 
vluehj^  from  the  mannscripts  having  E^w,  he  infers  to  have  been  Zx^ ' 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         23. 

But  to  my  words,  O  Oedipus,  attend; 
Eteocles  thy  Son  hath  to  these  hands 
Consign'd  the  sceptre  of  the  Theban  realm, 
On  Haemon,  at  his  nuptials  with  thy  Daughter 
Antigone,  to  be  bestow'd  in  dower : 
I  for  this  cause  no  longer  can  allow  thee 
Here  to  reside :  for  in  the  clearest  terms 
Tiresias  hath  pronounc'd,  that  while  thou  dwell'st 
In  these  domains,  Thebes  never  can  be  blest. 
Therefore  depart. —•  Nor  thro'  a  wanton  pride. 
Nor  any  hate  I  bear  thee,  do  I  hold 
Such  language,  but  because  I  justly  dread 
Thy  evil  Genius  will  destroy  this  land. 

OEDIPUS, 

How  wretched  from  the  moment  of  my  birth 
Me  hast  thou  made,  O  Fate,  if  ever  man 
Knew  misery :  ere  I  from  my  mother's  womb 
Was  to  the  light  brought  forth,  Apollo  warn'd 
The  royal  Laius  with  prophetic  voice. 
That  I,  his  future  child,  who  'gainst  the  will 
Of  Heaven  had  been  begotten,  should  become 
The  murderer  of  my  Father.     Wretched  me! 
But  soon  as  I  was  born,  he  who  begot 
Sought  to  destroy  me,  for  in  me  a  foe 
He  deem*d  would  view  the  sun  :  but  'twas  ordain'd 
That  I  should  slay  bin).     While  I  yet  was  loth 
To  quit  the  breast,  he  sent  me  for  a  prey 
To  savage  beasts;  I  scap'd  :  but  would  to  Heaven 
Cithaeron  had,  for  saving  me,  been  plung'd 
Into  the  fathomless  and  yawning  gulph 
Of  Tartarus  !  Fortune  gave  me  for  a  servant 
To  Polybus.     But  having  slain  my  Sire, 
Wretch  that  I  am,  my  hapless  Mother's  bed 
Ascending,  thence  did  I  at  once  beget 
Both  Sons  and  Brothers:  them  have  I  destroy'd 
By  showering  down  on  my  devoted  race 


•2S6         THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS. 

The  curses  I  inherited  from  (SO)  Laius. 

Yet  was  not  I  by  nature  made  so  void 

Of  understanding,  as  to  form  a  plot 

'Gainst  my  own  eye-sight,  or  my  children's  lives^ 

Unless  some  God  had  interfer'd.  —  No  ifiore.— 

What  shall  I  do  ?  ah  me !  what  faithful  guide. 

My  feet  thro'  blindness  tottering,  will  attend  f 

Jocasta  the  deceas'd  ?  while  yet  she iiv'd, 

I  know  she  would.  — Or  mv  two  noble  Sons? 

They  are  no  more.  —  Have  not  I  youth  still  left 

Sufficient  to  find  means  to  gain  me  food  i 

But  where  shall  I  procure  it?  or  why  thus, 

O  Creon,  do  you  utterly  destroy  me? 

For  you  will  take  away  my  poor  remains 

Of  life,   if  you  expell  me  from  this  land. 

Yet  will  not  I,  by  twining  round  your  knees 

These  arms,  put  on  the  semblance  of  a  dastard: 

For  the  renown  I  gain*d  in  days  of  yore, 

Tho'  miserable,  I  never  will  belie. 

CREON. 

Thou  with  a  manly  spirit  hast  refus'd 
To  clasp  my  knees  ;  but  in  the  Theban  realm 
No  longer  can  I  suffer  thee  to  dwell. 
Of  the  deceas'd,  the  one  into  the  palace 
Must  be  convey'd  :   but  as  for  him  who  came 
With  (31)  foreign  troops  to  lay  bis  country  wastfe, 

(30)  IVf  eaning  Uie  imprecations  against  Lains  the  father  of  Oedipw, 
uttered  by  Pelops,  froin  whom  Laius  had  treacherously  stolen  his  son 
Chrysippus.    See  the  first  note  to  this  Tragedy. 

(Si)  Kmg,  in  bis  notes,  objects  to  the  expression  o^xii;,  and  proposes 
to  substitute  ozrXoi;  in  its  stead,  but  without  altering  either  the  text  or 
version.  In  my  copy  of  his  edition,  I  meet  with  the  following  manv- 
script  note  of  the  late  Mr.  I>e  Missy,  "  AXXaj,  vocat  oi  fellor  Argiros,  a 
**  Thebanis  nimhiim  diversos,  extraneos,  oWwpi/)^^,  ax^f  n  eifettrf."  'Ae 
reader  will  meet  with  a  defence  of  oTOsm^  in  p:  546,  of  Valkekiael^s  edHioii 
of  this  Tragedy,  which  appears  to  me  too/nil  aoct  ^taJja^ffyicUiity ,t9  fefcife 
any  doubt  of  the  vulgar,  being  the  authentic,  reaiUng,  especially  as  Df. 
Musgrave,  who  has  in  his  notes  given  thte  prefereiiceto  idng^s  conjee- 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         £37 

The  corse  of  Polynices,  cast  it  forth 

Unburied  from  the  confines  of  this  land. 

This  edict,  by  a  herald,  to  all  Thebes 

Will  I  announce ;  whoe'er  shall  be  detected 

Adorning  with  a  garland  his  remains. 

Or  o'er  them  scattering  earth,  shall  be  with  death 

Requited  :  for  unwept  and  uninterr'd 

He  for  a  prey  to  vultares  must  be  left. 

No  longer,  O  Antigone,  lament 

O'er  these  three  breathless  corses,  but  with  speed 

To  your  apartment  go,  and  there  remain 

Amidst  your  virgin  comrades  till  to-morrow. 

When  Haemon's  bed  awaits  you. 

ANTIGONE. 

O  my  Sire, 
Into  what  hopeless  misery  art  thou  plung'd ! 
For  thee  far  more  than  for  the  dead  I  moan ; 
Thou  hast  not  aught  to  make  thy  weight  of  woe 
Less  grievous ;  the  afflictions  thou  endur'st 
Are  universal.     But,  O  thou  new  King, 
Of  thee  I  ask,  why  dost  thou  treat  my  Father 
With  scorn,  why  banish  him  from  Thebes,  why  frame 
Harsh  laws  against  a  wretched  corse  i 

CREON. 

Such  counsels 
Were  by  Eteocles,  not  me,  devis'd. 

ANTIGONE. 
•   Devoid  of  sense  are  they ;   thou  too  art  frantic. 
Who  these  decrees  obey'st. 

CREON. 

Is  it  not  just 
To  execute  th'  injunctions  we  receive? 

ANTIGONE. 

No,  not  if  they  are  base  and  ill-advis'd. 

tare,  and  imerted  ^  annis  msteid  of  <<  aliik^  in  his  Latin  version,  has 
SM>t,  in  support  of  su6h  innOTtition,  cited  the  anthority  of  a  sii^  amaO' 
Bcrqpt ;  nor  has  Brnocki  ^MiQ  «dtaib  «i^ft(  iiita^l^ 


258  THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS 

CREON. 

What  mean  you  ?  can  it  be  unjust  to  cast 
His  body  to  the  dogs? 

ANTIGONE. 

A  lawless  vengeance 
Is  this  which  ye  exact. 

CREON. 

Because  he  wag*d 
An  impious  war  against  his  native  city. 

ANTIGONE. 

Hath  not  he  yielded  up  his  life  to  fate  ? 

CREON. 
He  shall  be  punishM  also  in  the  loss 
Of  sepulture. 

ANTIGONE. 

Wherein,  if  he  requir'd 
His  portion  of  the  realm,  did  he  transgress  i 

CREON. 

Know  then  he  shall  remain  without  a  grave. 

ANTIGONE. 

I  will  inter  him,  tho'  the  state  forbid. 

CREON. 

You  shall  be  buried  with  him* 

ANTIGONE. 

For  two  friends 
TTwere  glorious  in  their  death  to  be  united. 

CREO^. 

Seize  and  convey  her  home. 

ANTIGONE. 

I  will  not  loose 
^    My  hold,  nor  shall  ye  tear  me  from  his  body. 

CHEON. 
O  virgin,  the  decrees  of  fate  ar^  such 
As  thwart  your  wayward  views. 

ANTIGONE. 

It.isdeeffie^. 
No  insults  shall  fee,  flftafite^OMLdo^-.., 


''•".  f 


THE  PHCENiaAN  DAMSELS.  239 

CREON. 
Over  ibis  corse  let  none  presume  to  stx^w 
The  nK)isten'd  dust« 

ANTIGONE. 

Thee,  Creon,  I  implore 
By  my  lov'd  Mother,  by  Jocasta's  shade. 

CREON. 

In  vain  are  your  entreaties  :  such  request 
I  cannot  grant. 

ANTIGONE. 

But  suffer  me  to  lave 
The  body  — 

CREON. 
I  this  interdict  must  add 
To  those  which  thro'  the  city  are  proclaim'd. 

ANTIGONE. 
And  close  with  bandages  his  gaping  wounds. 

CREON. 

To  his  remains  no  honours  shall  you  pay. 

ANTIGONE. 

Yet,  O  my  dearest  Brother,  on  thy  lips 
This  kiss  will  I  imprint. 

CREON. 

Nor  by  these  plaints 
Make  your  espousals  wretched. 

antigon£ 

Dar'st  thou  think 
That  I  will  ever  live  to  wed  thy  Son  ? 

CREON. 

You  by  necessity's  superior  force 
Will  be  constrain'd.     For  how  can  you  escape 
The  nuptial  bond  ? 

ANTIGONE. 
I  on  that  night  will  act 
Like  one  of  Danaus'  Daughters. 

CREON. 

Marked  ye  not 


240  THE  PHOENICIAN  DAMSELS, 

How  boldly,  with  what  arrogance  she  spoke? 

ANTIGONE. 
Bear  witness,  O  my  dagger,  to  the  oath. 

CREON. 

"Why  from  this  wedlock  wish  you  to  be  freed  ? 

ANTIGONE. 

My  miserable  Father  in  his  flight 
I  will  attend. 

CREON. 

A  generous  soul  is  yours, 
Abundant  folly  too. 

ANTIGONE. 
I  am  resolved 
To  share  his  death;   of  that  too  be  assured. 

CREON. 
Go,  leave  this  realm ;  you  shall  not  slay  my  Son. 

[Exit  CRBOK. 
OEDIPUS. 

The  (32)  for  thy  zeal,  my  Daughter,  I  applaud. 

ANTIGONE. 

How  can  I  wed,  while  you  my  Father  roam 
A  solitary  exile  i 

OEDIPUS. 

To  enjoy 

(32)  On  this  scene,  as  it  stands  in  the  version  of  Gascoigne  and  Kin- 
welmersh,  I  have  met  with  the  following  remark  in  the  Rev.  Mr.  War- 
ton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  which  I  here  take  the  liberty  of  citing, 
as  applicable  not  only  to  the  dialogue  before  us,  but  also  to  a  considei4>' 
ble  portion  of  the  writings  of  Eiuipides  ;  "  The  whole  dialogue  in  |be 
*'  original  is  carried  on  in  single  lines.  Such,  however,  is  the  pregnant 
^  simplicity  of  the  Greek  language;  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
**  to  have  rendered  line  for  line  in  English.'*  Vol.  III.  p.  377.  By  tin- 
possibley  I  understand,  not  to  be  effected  without  either  mutilatiiig  the 
sense,  or  making  the  English  version  so  harsh  and  obscure,  as  to  be 
scarcely  intelligible  without  referring  to  the  original.  Neither  Sibilet, 
who  published  a  French  translation  of  the  Iphigenia  in  Aulis,  about  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  nor  Carmelli,  by  whom  the  works  of 
Eor^ides  were  about  thirty  years  ago  rendered  into  Italian  poetry,  have 
laid  themielTes  under  any  such  restriction  of  giving  line  for  line. 


THfi  t^HQENIClAN  DAMSELS.  £41 

Thy  better  fortunes,  stay  thou  here :  my  woes 
I  will  endure  with  patience. 

ANTIGONE. 

Who,  my  Sire, 
Shall  minister  to  you  deprived  of  sight  ? 

OEDIPUS. 

I,  in  whatever  £eld  the  Fates  ordain 
That  I  shall  fall,  must  lie. 

ANTIGONE. 

Where's  Oedipus, 
And  that  fam'd  riddle  i 

OEDIPUS. 

Lost,  for  ever  lost : 
My  prosperous  fortunes  from  one  single  day. 
And  from  one  day  my  ruin  I  derive. 

ANTIGONE. 

May  not  I  also  be  allow'd  to  take 
A  part  in  your  afflictions  ? 

OEDIPUS. 

Twere  unseemly 
For  thee,  my  Daughter,  from  this  ladd  to  roam 
With  thy  blind  Father. 

ANTIGONE. 

To  a  virtuous  maid 
Not  base,  my  Sire,  but  noble. 

OEDIPUS. 

Lea^  me  on,. 
That  I  may  touch  thy  Mother. 

•  ANTIGONE. 

Here  she  lies : 
Clasp  that  dear  object  in  your  aged  arms. 

OEDIPUS. 

O  Mother,  O  my  miserable  Wife  I 

ANTIGONE. 

A  piteous  spectacle,  o'crwheUn'd  at  once 
By  every  ill. 

VOL.   I.  B 


242  THE  PHCENICUN  DAMSEL9. 

OEDIPUS* 

But  Where's  Eteocles* 
And  Polynices'  corse  ? 

ANTIGONE. 

Stretch t  on  the  ground 
Close  to  each  other. 

OEDIPUS. 

A  blind  Father's  hand 
Place  on  the  visage  of  each  hapless  youth. 

ANTIGONE. 

Lo  here  they  are :  stretch  forth  your  hand^  and  touc^i 
Your  breathless  Sons. 

OEDIPUS. 

Remains  of  those  I  lov'd> 
The  wretched  offspring  of  a  wretched  Sire. 

ANTIGONE. 

Thy  name>  O  Polynices,  shall  thy  Sister 
For  ever  hold  most  dear. 

OEDIPUS. 

Now,  O  my  Daughter, 
The  oracle  of  Phoebus  is  fulfill'd. 

ANTIGONE. 

What  oracle  ?  speak  you  of  any  woes 
We  have  not  yet  experienc'd  i 

OEDIPUS. 

That  in  Athens 
An  exile  I  shall  die. 

ANTIGONE.  

Where?  in  the  realm 
Of  Attica,  what  turret  shall  receive  you  ? 

OEDIPUS. 

(33)  Coloneus'  fane,  where  Neptune's  altars  rise. 

(33)  The  word  KoXwwf,  or  Ko^wn,  is  made  use  of  by  Hoih^  and  other 
nvriten  to  signify  a  hill.  Henfy  Stephens,  in  his  Greek  Thesaoms,  adds, 
tibat  there  was  a  fiunous  place  in  the  Athenian  territories  known  b^  that 
name,  which  was  sacred  to  Neptune,  and  palled  imrio;,  on  account  of  t||l|t 

.1     » 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.  243 

But  haste,  and  minister  with  duteous  zeal 
To  thy  blind  Father,  since  to  share  my  flight 
Was  thy  most  earnest  wish. 

ANTIGONE. 

My  aged  Sire, 
Into  a  wretched  banishment  go  forth  : 
O  give  me  that  dear  hand,  for  I  will  guide 
Your  tottering  steps,  as  prosperous  gales  assist 
The  voyage  of  the  bark. 

OEDIPTS, 

Lo,  I  advance: 
Do  thou  conduct  me,  O  my  hapless  Daughter. 

ANTIGONE. 
I  am  indeed  of  all  the  Theban  maids 
The  most  unhappy* 

OEDIPUS. 
My  decrepid  feet 
Where  shall  I  place  ?  O  Daughter,  with  a  staff 
Furnish  this  hand. 

ANTIGONE. 

Come  hither,  O  my  Sire. 
Here  rest  your  feet :  for,  like  an  empty  dream. 
Your  strength  is  but  mere  semblance. 

God  being  considered  as  Uie  inventor  of  horsemanship.  Thocydidei  hmop 
tions  Pisander's  holding  a  council  at  Coloneus,  and  spedu  of  its  cBstance 
from  Athens  as  ten  stadia,  or  about  a  mile  and  quarter.  Sophocles  says, 
Oedipus  died  and  was  buried  there  -,  that  in  fab  hist  moments  he  solemidy 
forbad  any  one  to  approach  his  grave.  But  it  appears  from  Homer,  that 
the  body  of  tliat  unfortunate  King  was,  after  his  death,  deposited  at 
Thebes  vdth  funereal  honours,  it  being  said  of  Mecisteus,  father  to  En. 
ryalus,  one  of  the  combatants  at  the  games  with  which  Achflles  cde- 
brated  the  memory  of  Patrochis,  ihathewetdto  Thebes,  oadirasvicfo- 
rious  at  the  tomb  qf  Oedipus,  The  account  given  by  Pansamas  (who  ob- 
jects to  that  of  Sophocles  as  not  according  with  Homer)  that  tiie  tomb 
of  Oedipus  was  witlun  the  boundary  of  the  Athenian  Areopagus,  and  that, 
upon  making  a  diligent  enquiry,  he  discovered  that  his  bones  were  re- 
moved thither  from  Thebes,  is  equally  irrecondleable  to  both  those  wri- 
ters ;  to  Sophocles,  in  representing  Oedipus  as  dying  at  lliebes ;  and  to 
Homer,  in  assertui]^  that  he  was  removed  into  ^e  province  of  Attica  fat 
interment. 

R  2 


%44         THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS, 

OEDIPUS.* 

Grievous  exile; 
A  weak  old  man,  he  from  hia  native  land 
Drives  fortli.     My  sufferings  are  alas !  most  dreadfuL 

ANTIGONE. 

What  is  there  in  the  sufferings  you  complain  of 
Peculiarly  distressful? '  doth  (34)  not  Justice 
Behold  the  sinner,  and  with  penal  strictness 
Each  foolish  action  of  mankind  repay  f 

OEDIFUS. 

Still  am  I  he  whom  the  victorious  Muse 
Exalted  to  the  skies>  when  I  explain'd 
The  dark  aenigma  hy  that  Fiend  propos*d. 

ANTIGONE. 

Why  speak  of  the  renown  which  you  obtained 
When  you  o'ercame  the  Sphynx  i  cease  to  recountf 
Past  happiness.    For,  O  my  Sire,  this  curse 
Awaited  you,  an  exile  from  your  country 
To  die  we  know  not  where.    My  virgin  comrades 
Leaving  to  wail  my  absence,  I  depart, 
Far  from  my  native  land  ordain'd  to  roam 
Unlike  a  bashful  maid. 

OEDIPUS. 

How  is  thy  soul 
With  matchless  generosity  endued ! 

ANTIGONE. 

Sach  conduct  'midst  my  Father's  woes  shall  make 
My  name  illustrious.    Yet  am  I  unhappy 
Thro*  the  foul  scorn  with  which  they  treat  my  Brother^ 
Whose  weltering  corse  without  these  gates  is  thrown 
Unbaried.    His  remains,  ill*fated  youth, 
Tho*  death  should  be  the  punishment,  with  earth 
I  privately  will  cover,  O  my  Sire. 

(54)  In  makiiig  the  whole  of  this  speech  mterrogfttive,  I  hare  followed 
the  directiMi  pvea  by  King  in  his  notes,  and  the  mnmyV  of  Cann^*« 
iMPion^  and  Bnnck's  note,  thongh  not  his  text 


THE  PHCENICIAN  DAMSELS.         345 

OEDIPUSL 

Go  join^hy  comrades. 

ANTIGONE. 

With  loud  plaintSj  enough 
Have  I  Bssail'd  the  ear  of  every  friend. 

OEDIPUS. 

But  at  the  altars  thou  must  offer  up 
Thy  supplications. 

ANTIGONE. 

They,  with  my  distress. 
Are  satiated. 

OEDIPUS. 

To  Bacchus'  temple  then 
Repair,  on  that  steep  mountain  where  no  step 
Profane  invades  his  orgies,  chosen  haunt 
Of  his  own  Maenades. 

ANTIGONE. 

Erst  in  the  hides 
Of  Theban  stags  array'd,  I  on  these  hills 
Join'd  in  the  dance  of  Semele,  bestowing 
A  homage  they  approv'd  not  on  the  Gods. 

OEDIPUS. 

Illustrious  citizens  of  Thebes  behold 
That  Oedipus,  who  the  enigma  solv'd. 
The  first  of  men,  when  I  had  singly  quell'd 
The  Sphynx's  ruthless  power,  but  now  o'erwhelm'd 
With  infamy,  I  from  this  land  am  driven 
A  miserable  exile.     But  why  groan. 
Why  utter  fruitless  plaints  ?  For  man  is  bound 
To  bear  the  doom  which  righteous  Heaven  awards. 

CHORUS. 

O  venerable  Victory,  take  possession 
Of  my  whole  life,  nor  ever  cease  to  twine 
Around  tbefe  brows  thy  laareat  wreath  divine. 


MEDEA. 


Feroxy  invictaque.  HoR« 

DeUbatis  ulta  douis  pelliceniy 
Serpente  fugit  alite.  Ibid. 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA. 


NURSE  OF  MEDEA. 
"^    ATTENDANT  ON  THE  CHILDREN. 

MEDEA. 

CHORUS  OF  CORINTHIAN  WOMEN. 
/  CREON. 
y     JASON. 

^GEUS. 

MESSENGER. 

THE  TWO  SONS  OF  JASON  AND  MEDEA. 

SCENE— BEFORE  THE  PALACE  OF  CREON  AT  CORINTH. 


MED  E  A. 


/  NURSE, 

,  Ah  !  would  to  Heaven  the  Argo  ne'er  had  urg'd 
Its  rapid  voyage  to  the  Colchian  strand 
'Twixt  the  Cyftnean  rocks,  nor  had  the  pine 
Been  fell  in  Pelion's  forests,  nor  the  hands 
Of  those  illustrious  Chiefs,  who  that  fam'd  bark 
Ascended,  to  obtain  the  golden  fleece 
For  royal  Pelias,  plied  the  stubborn  oar ; 
So  to  lolchos'  turrets  had  my  Queen 
Medea  never  sail'd,  her  soul  with  love 
For  Jason  smitten,  nor,  as  since  her  arts 
Prevail'd  on  Pelias  Daughters  to  destroy 
Their  Father,  in  this  realm  of  Corinth  dwelt 
An  exile  with  her  Husband  and  her  Sons ; 
Thus  to  the  citizens  whose  land  received  her. 
Had  she  grown  pleasing,  and  in  all  his  schemes 
Assisted  Jason  :  to  the  wedded  pair ; 
Hence  bliss  supreme  ai'ises,  when  the  bond 
Of  concord  joins  them  :  now  their  souls  are  fill'd 
With  ruthless  hate,  and  all  affection's  lost: 
For  false  to  his  own  Sons,  and  her  I  serve. 
With  a  new  consort  of  imperial  birth 
Sleeps  the  perfidious  Jason,  to  the  Daughter 
Of  Creon  wedded,  lord  of  these  domains. 
The  wretched  scorn'd  Medeai  oft  exclaims, 
"  O  by  those  oaths,  by  that  right  hand  thou  gav'st 
'^  The  pledge  of  faith  !"  She  then  invokes  the  God$ 
To  witness  what  requital  ^e  hath  found 
From  Jason.    On  a  couch  she  lies,  no  food 
Receiving,  her  whole  frame  subdu'd  by. grief. 
And  since  she  markM  the  treachery  of  her  lord 


250  MEDEA. 

Melts  into  tears  incessant,  from  the  ground 

Her  eyes  she  never  raises,  never  turns 

Her  face  aside,  but  stedfast  as  a  rock. 

Or  as  the  ocean's  rising  billows,  hears 

The  counsels  of  her  friends,  save  when  she  weeps 

In  silent  anguish,  with  her  snowy  neck 

Averted,  for  her  Sire,  her  native  land. 

And  home,,  which  she  forsaking  hither  came 

With  him  who  scorns  her  now :  she  from  her  woes 

Too  late  hath  learnt  how  enviable  the  lot 

Of  those  who  leave  not  their  paternal  roof. 

She  even  bates  her  Children,  nor  with  joy 

Beholds  them  :  much  1  dread  lest  she  contrive 

Some  enterprise  unheard  of,  for  her  soul 

Is  vehement,  nor  will  she  tamely  brook 

Injurious  treatment;  well,  full  well  I  know 

Her  temper,  which  alarms  me,  lest  she  steal 

Into  their  chamber,  where  the  genial  couch 

Is  spread,  and  with  the  sword  their  vitals  pierce, 

Or  to  the  slaughter  of  the  Bridegroom  add 

That  of  the  Monarch,  and  in  some  mischance^ 

Yet  more  severe  than  death,   herself  involve  : 

For  dreadful  is  her  wrath,  nor  will  the  object 

Of  her  aversion  gain  an  easy  triumph. 

But  lo,  returning  from  the  race,  her  Sons 

Draw  near  :  they  think  not  of  their  mother's  woes. 

For  youthful  souls  are  strangei-s  to  affliction. 

ATTENDANT,    with   the  SONS  of  Jason  and 

Medea,  NURSE. 

ATTENDANT. 

O  thou,  who  for  a  length  of  time  hast  dwelt 
Beneath  the  roofs  of  that  illustrious  Dame 
I  serve,  why  stand'st  thou  at  these  gates  alone 
Repeating  to  thyself  a  doleful  tale : 
Or  wherefore  by  Medea  from  her  presence 
Art  thon  dismiss'd  P 


MEDEA.  251 

NURSE. 
Old  man,  O  you  who  tend 
On  Jason's  Sons,  to  faithful  servants  aught 
Of  evil  fortune  that  befalls  their  lords 
Is  a  calamity  :  but  such  a  pitch 
Of  grief  am  I  arriv'd  at,  that  I  felt 
An  impulse  which  constrain'd  me  to  come  forth 
From  these  abodes,  and  to  the  conscious  Earth 
And  Heaven  proclaim  the  lost  Medea's  fate. 

ATTENDANT. 

Cease  not  the  plaints  of  that  unhappy  Dame  ? 

NURSE. 

Your  ignorance  I  envy  :  for  her  woes 
Are  but  beginning,  nor  have  yet  attain'd 
Their  mid  career. 

ATTENDANT. 
O  how  devoid  of  reason. 
If  we  with  terms  thus  harsh  may  brand  our  lords. 
Of  ills  more  recent  nothing  yet  she  knows. 

*  NURSE. 

Old  Man,  what  mean  you  ?  scruple  not  to  speak. 

ATTENDANT. 

Nought.     What  I  have  already  said  repents  me. 

NURSE. 

I  by  that  beard  conjure  you  not  to  hide 
The  secret  from  your  faithful  fellow-servant. 
For  I  the  strictest  silemce  will  observe 
If  it  be  needful. 

ATTENDANT. 
Sonie  one  I  o'erheard, 
(Appearing  not  to  listen,  as  I  came 
Where  aged  men  sit  near  Pirenc's  fount 
(I)  And  hurl  their  dice,)  say  that  from  Corinth's  land 

(l)  In  a  note  on  the  196th  verse  of  the  Iphigenia  in  Aulis,  I  have  stated 
my  reasons  for  rendering  n«7itro;,  Dice  rather  than  "  Chess,"  as  apprehend- 
ing the  latter  to  be  of  more  ]n(»dern  date,  a»id  expressed  by  the  Greek 


252  MEDEA. 

Creon  the  lord  of  these  domains  will  banish 
The  Children  with  their  Mother;  but  I  know  not 
Whether  th'  intelligence  be  true,  and  wish 
It  may  prove  otherwise. 

NURSE. 
V  Will  Jason  brook 

Such  an  injurious  treatment  of  his  Sons, 
Altho'  he  be  at  variance  with  their  Mother  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

By  new  connections,  are  all  former  ties 
Dissolved,  and  he  no  longer  is  a  friend  • 
To  this  neglected  race. 

NUR«E. 

We  shall  be  plung'd 
In  utter  ruin,  if  to  our  old  woes 
Yet  unexhausted,  any  fresh  we  add. 

ATTENDANT. 

Be  silent,  and  suppress  the  dismal  tale. 
For 'tis  unfit  our  royal  Mistress  know, 

NURSE. 

Hear,  O  ye  Children,  how  your  Father's  soul 
Is  turn'd  against  you :  still,  that  h^  may  perish, 
I  do  not  pray,   because  he  is  my  Lord ; 
Yet  treacherous  to  his  friends  hath  he  been  found. 

word  Zul^iuav,  known  only  to  the  barbarous  ages.  The  foUowing  lingiUar 
passage  from  an  epistle  of  Peter  Daraiahus,  an  ecclesiastical  writer  of 
the  eleventh  century,  to  Hildebrand,  (Pope  Gregoiy  7th)  which  has  since 
occurred  to  me,  looks  as  if  the  game  of  Chess  was  in  his  days  a  thing  quite 
new  and  Grange,  instead  of  being  transmitted  to  modem  Europe  from  ei- 
ther the  contemporaries  of  Jason  or  those  of  Palamedes :  the  following  is 
a  literal  translation.  <<  Was  it  right,  I  say,  and  consistent  with  thy  dot^l^ 
*^  to  sport  away  thy  evenings  amidst  the  vanity  of  Chess,  and  defile  the 
<^  Jband  which  offers  np  the  body  of  our  Lord,  the  tongue  that  mediates 
f^  between  God  and  man,  with  the  pollution  of  a  sacrileguma  game?^ 
Mere  zeal  could  not  have  dictated  such  language  from  a  Man  of  liigjh 
rank,  and  an  author  of  eminence,  unless  accompanied  with  some  portion 
pf  ignorance  in  regard  to  an  amusement  which  is  at  least  of  an  hanniesft 
natiire^  hut  was  then,  it  seems,  but  just  introduced  at  Rome* 


r 


MEDEA;  U5 

ATTENDANT- 

Who  is  not  treacherous?  hast  thou  livM  so  long 
Without  discerning  how  self-love  prevails  (2) 
O'er  social?  some  by  (3)  glory,  some  by  gain, 
Are  prompted.     Then  what  wonder,  for  the  sake 
Of  a  new  Consort,  if  the  Father  slight 
These  Children  ? 

NURSE, 

Go,  all  will  be  well,  go  in. 
Keep  them  as  far  as  possible  away. 
Nor  suffer  them  to  come  into  the  presence 
Of  their  afflicted  mother ;  for  her  eyes 
Have  I  just  seen  with  wild  distraction'fir'd^ 
As  if  some  horrid  purpose  against  them 
She  meant  to  execute ;  her  wrath  I  know 
Will  not  be  pacified,  till  on  some  victim 
It  like  a  thunderbplt  from  Heaven  descends; 
May  she  assail  her  foes  albne,  nor  aim 
The  stroke  at  those  she  ought  to  hold  most  dear. 

MEDEA  {withU.) 

^Ah  me !  how  grievous  are  my  woes !  what  means 
Can  I  devise  to  end  this  hated  life  i 

NURSE* 

Tis  as  I  said :  strong  agitations  sieze 
Your  mother's  heart,  her  choler's  raised.    Dear  Children, 
Beneath  these  roofs  hie  instantly,  nor  come 
Into  her  sight,  accost  her  not,  beware 
Of  these  ferocious  manners  and  the  rage 

(2)  *^  Verom  illud  proverbium  est,  vulgo  quod  dici  solet: 
^  Omnes  sibi  malle  melius  esse  quam  alteri.'' 

Terent  Andrea,  A.  2.  Sc.  5. 
and  see  Victoiii  Var.  Lect  L.  14.  c  6. 

(3)  Unable  to  interpret  the  word  iixaiws  here  in  such  a  maimer  as  to 
give  any  satisfiMtory  meaning,  I  have  adopted  in  its  stead  &»  scxn?,  the  al- 
teration of  Janus  Gnilielmus,  mentioned  with  approbation  by  Barnes.  In 
Dr.  Mosgrave's  supplementary  notes,  the  reader  will  find  a  different  eon* 
jectural  reading,  which  fo  by  fiir  more  strained,  and  extends  itself  through 
ahnost  the  whol^  hue. 


254  MEDEA, 

Which  boils  in  that  ungovernable  spirit. 

Go  with  the  utmost  speed,  for  I  perceive 

Too  clearly  that  her  plaints,  which  in  thick  clouds 

Arise  at  first,  will  kindle  ere  'tis  long 

With  tenfold  violence.     What  deeds  of  horror 

From  that  high-soaring,  that  remorseless  soul. 

May  we  expect,  when  goaded  by  despair ! 

[Exeunt  attendant  and  sons. 

MEDEA  (wUhm.) 

I  have  endiir'd,  alas !  I  have  endur'd, 
Wretch  that  I  am  !  such  agonies  as  call 
For  loudest  plaints.     Ye  execrable  Sons 
Of  a  devoted  Mother,  perish  ye 
With  your  false  Sire,  and  perish  his  whole  house. 

NURSE.    . 

Why  should  the  Sons,  ah  wretched  me,  partake 
Their  Father's  guilt?  why  hat'st  thou  ihein?  ah  me  ! 
How  greatly,  O  ye  Children,  do  I  fear 
Lest  mischief  should  befall  you  :  for  the  souls 
Of  Kings  (4)  are  prone  to  cruelty,  so  seldom 
Subdued,  and  over  others  wont  to  rule. 
That  it  is  ditlicult  for  such  to  change 
Their  angry  purpose.     Happier  I  esteem 
The  lot  of  those  who  still  are  wont  to  live 
Among  their  equals.     May  I  thus  grow  old. 
If  not  in  splendor,  yet  with  safety  blest ! 
For  first  of  all,  renown  attends  the  name 
Of  Mediocrity,  and  to  mankind 

(4)  Tliis  sentiment  corresponds  with  that  which  Homer  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  Calchas : 

**  Kpna-acjv  yocp  ^oc(rt>^ivq  on  x^a-BTOCi  at^pt  X^^^ 

**  £(?rsp  y»p  %oXoi',  ^e  xa(  avrtfAccp  xetrctvitpit 

**  AMioc  ye  ttaci  ^iroma-^iv  i^n  xotok  o(fpa,  ri>iB(ra'vif 

"  El*  rt}98<r<r»i»  loio-i."  II.  L.  U  v.  80. 

^  "  For  tho*  we  deem  ^e  short-liv'd  fury  past, 
"  *T^  sure  the  mighty  will  revenge  at  last.**    .  Pqpe. 


MEDEA.  ^56 

Such  station  is  more  useful :  but  not  long 
Can  the  extremes  of  grandeur  ever  last; 
And  heavier  are  the  curses  which  it  brings 
When  Fortune  visits  us  in  all  her  wrath, 

CHORUS,  NURSE. 

CHORUS. 

The  voice  of  Colchos'  hapless  Dame  I  heard, 
A  clamorous  voice,  nor  yet  is  she  appeas'd. 
Speak,  O  thou  aged  matron,  for  her  cries 
I  from  the  innermost  apartment  heard ; 
Nor  can  I  triumph  in  the  woes  with  which 
This  house  is  visited  ;  for  to  (5)  my  soul. 
Dear  are  its  interests. 

NURSE. 

This  whole  house^is  plung'd 
In  ruin,  and  its  interests  are  no  more. 
While  Cprinth's  palace  to  our  Lord  affords 
A  residence,  within  her  chamber  pines 
My  mistress,  and  the  counsels  of  her  friends 
Afford  no  comfort  to  her  tortur'd  soul. 

MEDEA  (wUkm.) 

O  that  a  flaming  thunderbolt  from  Heaven 
Would  pierce  this  brain !  for  what  can  longer  life 
To  me  avail  ?  fain  would  I  seek  repose 
In  death,  and  cast  away  this  hated  being. 

CHORUS.       ' 

Heard'st  thou,  all-righteous  Jove,  thou  fostering  Earth, 
And  thou,  O  radiant  Lamp  of  day,  what  plaints, 
What  clamorous  plaints  this  miserable  Wife 
Hath  ulter'd  i    Thro'  insatiable  desire. 
Ah  why  would  you  precipitate  your  death  ? 

(5)  In  reading  jtxot  preferably  to  ^q,  I  find  myself  antfaorised  by  Lasca- 
lis's  edition,  and  the  Scholia,  and  some  of  the  most  antient  manuscripts 
mentioned  in  Dr.  Musgrave^  note :  Aldus  and  the  late  editors,  a  variety 
of  \diom  I  have  turned  to,  read  pi,  which  greatly  alters,  but  does  not 
seem  by  any  means  to  improve,  the  sense. 


«56  MEDEA. 

O  most  unwise !  these  imprecations  spare. 
What  if  your  Lord's  affections  are  engaged 
By  a  new  Bride,  reproach  him  not,  for  Jove 
Will  be  the  dread  avenger  of  your  wrongs ; 
Nor  melt  away  with  unavailing  grief. 
Weeping  for  the  lost  partner  of  your  bed. 

MEDEA  (within.) 

'  .Great  Themis  and  Diana,  aweful  Queen, 
Do  ye  behold  the  insults  I  egdure, 
Tho*  by  each  oath  most  holy  I  have  bound 
That  execrable  Husband  :  May  I  see 
Him  and  his  Bride,  torn  limb  from  limb,  bestrew 
The  palace  ;  me  have  they  presumed  to  wrong, 
Akho'  I  ne'er  provok'd  them.     O  my  Sire, 
And  thou  my  native  land,  whence  1  with  shame 
Departed  when  my  (6)  Brother  I  had  slain. 

NURSE. 

Heard  ye  not  all  she  said,  with  a  loud  voicif 
Invoking  Themis,  who  fulfills  the  vow. 
And  Jove,  to  whom  the  tribes  of  men  look  up> 
As  guardian  of  their  oaths.     Medea's  rage 
Can  by  no  trivial  vengeance  be  appeas'd. 

CHORUS. 
Could  we  but  draw  her  hither,  and  prevail 
On  her  to  hear  the  counsels  we  suggest. 
Then  haply  might  she  check  that  bitter  wrath. 
That  vehemence  of  temper;  for  my  zeal 
Shall  not  be  spar'd  to  aid  my  friends.     But  go. 
And  say,  "  O  hasten,  ere  to  those  within 
**  Thou  do  some  mischief,  for  these  sorrows  rush 
"  With  an  impetuous  tempest  on  thy  soul.** 

NURSE. 

This  will  I  do;  tho'  there  is  cause  to  fear 
That  on  my  Mistress  I  shall  ne'er  prevail : 
Yet  I  my  labor  gladly  will  bestow, 

(6)  Absyrtes.     ^ 


MEDEA-     *  257 

Tho'  such  a  look  she  on  her  servants  casts^ 

As  the  ferocious  lioness  who  guards 

Her  tender  young,  when  any  one  draws  near 

To  speak  to  her^    Thou  would'st  not  judge  amiss^ 

In  charging  foll^'and  a  total  want 

Of  wisdom  on  the  men  of  antient  days; 

Who  for  their  festivals  invented  hymns, 

And  to  the  banquet^  and  the  genial  board, 

Confin'd  those  accents  which  o'er  human  life 

Diffuse  extatic  pleasures :  but  no  artist 

Hath  yet  discovered",  by  the  tuneful  song. 

And  varied  modulations  of  the  lyre. 

How  we  those  piercing  sorrows  may  assuage. 

Whence  slaughters  and  such  horrid  mischiefs  spring 

As  many  a  prosperous  mansion  have  o'erthfown. 

Could  music  interpose  her  healing  aid 

In  these  inveterate  maladies,  such  gift 

Had  been  the  first  of  blessings  to  mankind  : 

But  'midst  choice  viands  and  the  circling  bowl. 

Why  should  those  minstrels  strain  their  useless  throat? 

To  cheer  the  drooping  heart,  convivial  joys 

Are  in  themselves  sufficient.  [Exit  nurse. 

CHORUS. 

Mingled  groans 
And  lamentations  burst  upon  mine  ear  : 
She  in  the  bitterness  of  soul  exclaims 
Against  her  impious  husband,  who  betray'd 
His  plighted  faith  ;  by  grievous  wrongs  opprest. 
She  the  vindictive  Gods  invokes,  and  Themis, 
Jove's  Daughter,  guardian  of  the  sacred  oath. 
Who  o'er  the  waves  to  Greece  benignly  steer'd 
Their  bark  adventurous,  launch'd  in  midnight  gloom, 
Thro'  ocean's  gates  which  never  can  be  clos'd  ! 


MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

•  •• 

MEDEA. 

From  my  apartment,  ye  Corinthian  Damea, 

YOL.  I.  8 


N 


•' 


.o' 


«8  MEDEA. 

Lest  ye  my  conduct  censure,  I  come  forth : 
For  I  have  known  full  naany  who  obtain'd 
Fame  and  high  rank ;  some  (7)  to  the  ppblic  gazer 
Stood  ever  forth,  while  others,  in  a  sphere 
More  distantj**  chose  their  merits  to  display  : 
Nbf  yet  a  few,  who,  studious  of  repo^, 
Have  with  malignant  obloquy  been  call'd 
Devoid  of  spirit :  for  no  human  eyes 
Can  form  a  just  discernment;  at  ofne  glance. 
Before  the  inmost  secrets  of  the  heart . 
Are  clearly  known,  a  bitter  hate  'gainst  him 
/if  ho  never  wrong'd  us,  they  too  oft  inspire. 
J^^ut'tis  a  stranger's  cluty  to  adopt 

The  manners  of  the  land  in  which  he  dwells  ^ 
Nor  can  I  praise  that  native,  led  astray 
By  mere  perverseness  and  o'erweening  folly. 
Who  bitter  enmity  incurs  from  those 
Of  his  own  city.     But,  alas!  my  friends. 
This  unforeseen  calamity  hath  withered. 
The  vigor  of  my  soul,     I  am  undone. 
Bereft  of  every  joy  that  life  can  yield, 
And  therefore  wish  to  die.     For  as  to  him. 
My  Husband,  whom  it  did  import  me  most 
To  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of,  he  proves 
The  worst  of  men.     But  sure  among  all  those 
Who  have  with  breath  and  reason  been  endued. 
We  women  are  the  most  unhappy  race, 
rtirst  with  ^bundjapt  gold  are  we  constrain'd 
To  (8)  buy  a  husband,  and  in  him  receive 

(7)  The  ill  success  of  the  repeated  attempts  I  have  made  to  .tnuvlfite 
this  passage  conformably  to  the  usual  reading,  in  a  manner  satis&ptory 
to  myself,  has  induced  me  to  adopt  Brunck*s  alteration  of  mi  for  am,  and 
to  understand  by  o^^mtusi  vm  those  who  attended  the  forum  :  and  by  i» 
^^«;,  those  employed  in  the  fleet  and  army,  ^r  on  foreign  embassies. 

(8)  The  attack  of  the  Scholiast  on  tliis  part  of  Medea's  speech,  as  in- 
consistent with  the  manners  of  the  heroic  ages,  when  Dower,  he  says, 

.  used  to  be  given  -to  the  Bride^'s  kindred,  and  not  received  from  them^ 
has  been  so  fully  obviated  by  Salmaeius  in  his  treatise  de  Mode  usuraram* 


MEDJEA  «50 

A  haughty  master.     Still  doth  there  remain 
One  mischief  than  this  mischief  yet  more  grievous. 
The  hazard  whether  we.  procure  a  mate 
Worthless  or  virtuous  :  for  divorces  bring 
Reproach  to  woman^  nor  must  she  renounce 
The  maojhe  wedded;  as  for  her  who  comes 
Where  usages  and  edicts^  which  at-home 
She  learnt  not,  are  established,  she  the  gift 
Of  divination  needs. to  teach  her  howcJ 
A  Husband  must  be  chosen  :  if  aright 
These  duties  weperform,  and  he  the  yoke 
Of  wedlock  with  complacency  sustains,  \. 
Ours  is  a  happy  life;  but  if  we  fail* 

vrhere  it  is  shewn  by  aboBdant  inslances,  that,  in  thci  earliest  days  pf 
Greece,  a  considerable  present  sometimes  accompanied  the  Bride  byway 
of  portion,  and  sometimes  wa^  given  to  the  Father  in  order  to  obtain  her^ 
tha  Sc  fifTf,'  as  weU  as  the  word  Dower  in  English,  being  made  nse  of  in 
either  of  these  two'senses,;tliat  it  may  seem  needless  to  say  any  thing 
iarUier  on  the  subject.  But  as  the  objection  is  renewed  from  a  quarter  I 
could  least  have  expected,  by  Monsieur  Rochfort,  who  favoured  the 
public  about  ten  years  ago  with  a  translation  of  Homer  into  the  French 
language,  who  in  the  Acad;  des  Inscriptions,  Tom.  36,  p.  437,  says, 
<<  c'est  a  tort  que  Hedee  se  plaiht  dans  <^  Euripide  du  malheuc  deS  £ean- 
*^  mes obliges  d'acheter  nn mariau p<nds de Tor;  cette plainte convefioit 
<<  an  siecle  d'Euripide,  6c  non  a  des  siecles  plus  nq)proches  de  la  nature." 
It  may  not  be  amiss  to  repeat  one  Or  two  instances  adduced  fromHoiper 
by  Salmasius,  tffshew,  that,  during  the  siege  of  Troy,  a  period  of  time 
which  does  not  appear  to  have  been  more  than  seventy  years  subsequent 
to  the  Argonautic  expedition,  it  was  no  unusual  thing  for  the  Husband 
to  acquire  a  fortune  by  his  wife ;  nor  would  Othryoneus  have  been  re- 
presented as  suing  for  Priam's  daughter  Cassandra  to  be  given  to  him  in 
marriage,  eevM^wy,  which  unqnestienably  nieans'\rithout  his  receiving  any 
Dower  with  her,  had  such  portions  been,  in  (those  jdaysiuobeard  of:  but 
the  following  passage, 

HoXTuy  fMiK*  wra*  tntu  tig  m  ^tiu%t  ^%yeM]pt» 

Himself  wiU  give^  the  Dower,  so  vast  a  store 

As  never  fiither  gave  a  diild  before.  Pope. 

which  is  yet  more  decisive,  occurs  in  the*  9th  book  of  the  IMac^  wherci 
in  order  to  induce  Achilles  to  rejoin  the  4X>i^4EKieirate  jiost  of  Greece, 
Ulysses  carries  pr<^sals  from  Agfuoaenmon^  .jqffi^Dng  .  to  .hiia  .fisher 
of  his  Da&j^ters  in  marriage. 

S  3 


260  MEDEA. 

fi  this  great  object,  better  'twere  to  die. 
or,  when  afflicted  by  domestic  ills, 
man  goes  forth,  his  choler  to  appease. 
And  to  some  friend  or  comrade  can  reveal 
What  he  endures ;  but  we  to  him  alone 
For  succour  must  look  up.    They  still  contend 
That  we,  at  home  remaining,  lead  a  life 
Exempt  from  danger,  while  they  launch  the  spear  : 
False  are  these  judgements;  rather  would  I  thrice, 
'  Arm'd  with  a  target,  in  th'  embattled  field 
Maintain  my  st^nd,  than  suifex  once  the  throes 
Of  childbirth  Xbut  this  language  suits  not  you  :  j 
This  is  your  native  city,  the  abode 
Of  your  lov'd  parents,  every  comfort  life 
Can  furnish  is  at  hand,  and  with  your  iriends 
You  here  converse  :  but  I,  forlorn,  and  left 
Without  a  home,  am  by  that  Husband  scorn'd 
Who  carried  me  from  a  Barbarian  realm. 
Nor  Mother,  Brother,  or  relation  now 
Have  I,  to  whom  I  'midst  these  storms  of  woe, 
Like  an  auspicious  haven,  can  repair. 
,   Thus  far  I  therefore  crave  ye  will  espouse 
My  interests,'  as  if  haply  any  means 
Or  any  stratagem  can  be  devis'd 
For  me  with  justice  to  avenge  these  wrongs 
On  my  perfidious  Husband,  on  the  King 
Who  to  that  Husband's  arms  his  Daughter  gave^ 
And  the  new-wedded  Princess  ;  to  observe 
Strict  silence.    For  altho'  at  other  times 
A  woman,  fill'd  with  terror,  is  unfit 
For  battle,  or  to  face  the  lifted  sword. 
She  when  her  soul  by  marriage  wrongs  is  fir'd^ 
Thirsts  with  a  rage  unparallei'd  for  blood. 

CHORUS. 

The  silence  you  request,  1  will  observe^ 
For  justly  on  your  Lord  may  you  inflict 
Severest  vengeance:  still  I  wonder  not 


MEDEA.  £61 

If  your  disastrous  fortunes  you  bewail : 
But  Creon  1  behold  who  wields  the  sceptre 
Of  these  domains  ;  the  monarch  hither  comes 
His  fresh  resolves  in  person  to  declare. 


CREON,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

CREON, 

Thee,  O  Medea,  who,  beneath  those  looks 
Stern  apd  forbidding,  harbour'st  'gainst  thy  Lord 
Resentment,  I  command  to  leave  these  realms 
An  exile ;  for  companions  of  thy  flight 
Take  both  thy  children  with  thee,  nor  delay; 
Myself  pronounce  this  edict;  I  my  home 
Will  not  revisit,  from  the  utmost  bounds 
Of  this  domain  till  I  have  cast  thee  forth. 

MEDEA. 

Ah,  wretched  me  !  I  utterly  am  ruin'd  : 
For  in  the  swift  pursuit,  my  ruthless  foes. 
Each  cable  loosing  have  unfuri'd  their  sails. 
Nor  can  I  land  on  any  friendly  shore 
To  save  myself,  yet  am  resolv'd  to  speak, 
Tho'  punishment  impend :  what  cause,  O  Creon, 
Have  you  for  banishing  me  ? 

CREON. 

Thee  I  dread, 
(No  longer  is  it  needful  to  disguise 
My  thoughts)  lest  Against  my  Daughter  thou  contrive 
Some  evil  such  as  medicine  cannot  reach. 
Pull  many  incidents  conspire  to  raise 
This  apprehension ;  with  a  deep-laid  craft 
Art  thou  endued,  expert  in  the  device 
Of  mischiefs  numberless,  thou  al;^o  griev'st 
Since  thou  art  sever'd  from  thy  husband's  bed. 
I  am  informed  too  thou  hast  menac'd  vengeance 
'Gainst  me,  because  my  Daui^hter  I  bestow'd 
In  marriage,  aod  the  Bridegroom,  and  his  Biidi:: 


96^  MEDEA* 

Against  these  threats  I  therefore  ought  to  guard 
Before  they  take  eflfect;  and  better  far 
Is  it  for  me,  O  woman,  to  incur 
Thy  hatred  now,  than  sooth'd  by  thy  mild  words 
Hereafter  my  forbearance  to  bewail. 

MEDEA. 

•      Not  now,  alas!  for  the  first  time,  bnt  oft 
To  me,  O  Creon,  hath  opinion  prov'd 
Most  baleful,  and  the  source  of  grievous  woes. 
Nor  ever  ought  the  man,  who  is  possest 
Of  a  sound  judgement,  to  train  up  his  children 
To  be  too  wise :  for  they  who  live  exempt 
From  (9)  war  and  all  its  toils,  the  odious  name 
Among  their  fellow-citizens  acquire 
Of  abject  sluggards.     If  to  the  unwise 
You  some  fresh  doctrine  broach,  you  are  esteem'd 
Not  sapient,  but  a  trifler :  when  to  those 
Who  in  their  own  conceit  possess  each  branch 
Of  knowledge,  you  in  state  afiairs  obtain 
Superior  fame,  to  them  you  grow  obnoxious. 
I  also  feel  the  grievance  I  lament; 
Some  envy  my  attainments,  (10)  others  think 
My  temper  uncomplying,  tho'  my  wisdom 
Is  not  transcendent.     But  from  me  it  seeilis 
You  apprehend  some  violence  ;  dismiss 

(9)  The  reading  of  uhcuf,  instead  of  o^^  which  I  lisre  adopted  fitim 
Bmack,  is,  ds  he  assures  us  in  his  note,  supported  by  the  authority  of 
manuscripts,  though  it  has  escaped  all  preceding  editors :  that  of  npj,  in- 
stead of  croffty  two  lines  lower,  cocurs  in  the  edition  of  Lascaris,  and  one 
of  the  Persian  manuscripts  cited  by  Dr.  MusgraTe,  and  is  followed  is 
his  Latin  version,  though  not  mserted  in  his  Greek  text. 

(10)  The  line  T«(  ^  navyeaa^  tju;  i«  3'a7«gtf  t^ottk,  is  proscribed  by  Pierson 
with  his  usual  warmth,  and  but  faintly  defended  by  Reiskius.  Musgrave 
and  Brunck  have  botli  omitted  it  in  their  editions,  it  being  only  written 
in  tiie  margin  of  tiie  fijrst  of  the  manuscripts  in  fhc  King  of  France's  li> 
brary,.  consulted  by  Musgrave,  I  have  accordingly  declined  translating 
it  here,  as  it  is  repeated  with  small  vaiiations,  v.  808.  edit.  Barnes^ 
though  it  stands  as  part  of  the  text  m  Lascaris's  edition,  as  well  as  tliat 
of  Ald«s. 


MEDEA.  S6S 


c  t 


Those  fears ;  my  situation  now  k  such, 
O  Creon^  that  to  monarchs  I  can  give 
No  umbrage :  and  in  what  respect  have  yoa 
Treated  me  with  injustice?  you  bestow'd 
Your  Daughter  where  your  inclination  led. 
Tho'  I  abhor  my>  Husband,  I  suppose 
That  you  have  actied  wisely,  nor  repine 
At  your  prosperity ;  conclude  the  match. 
Be  happy :  but  allow  me  in  this  land 
Yet  to  reside :  for  I  my  wrongs  will  bear 
In  silence,  and  to  my  superiors  yield. 

CREON'. 

Soft  is  the  sound  of  thy  persuasive  words. 
But  in  my  soul  I  feel  the  strongest  dread 
Lest  thou  devise  some  mischief,  and  now  less 
Than  ever  can  I  trust  thee ;  for  'gainst  those ' 
Of  hasty  tempers  with  more  ease  we  guard. 
Or  men  or  women,  than  the  silent  foe 
Who  acts  with  prudence.    Therefore  be  thou  gone 
With  speed,  no  answer  make :  it  is  decreed. 
Hot  hast  thou  art  sufficient  to  avert 
Thy  doom'of  banishment;  for  well  aware 
.^m  I  thou  hat'st  me.  ' 

MEDEA. 

S[)arfe  ^e,  by  those  knees 
And  your  new-wedded  Daughter  I  implore. 

CREON. 

*     Lavish  of  words,  thou  ifeVer  shalt  persuade  me. 

MEDEA. 

Will  you  then  drive  me  hence,  and  to  my  prayers 
No  reverence  yield  ? 

CREON. 

I  do  not  love  thee  more 
Than  those  of  my  own  house. 

MEDEA. 

With  what  regret 
Po  I  remember  thee,  my  native  land  ! 


264  MEDEA. 

CREON. 

Except  my  children,  I  hold  nought  so  dear. 

MEDEA. 

To  mortals  what  a  dreadful  scourge  is  Love ! 

CREON. 

As  Fortune  dictates.  Love  becomes,  I  ween. 
Either  a  curse  or  blessing. 

MEDEA. 

llighteous  Jove, 
Let  not  the  author  of  my  woes  escape  thee. 

CREON. 

Away,  vain  woman,  free  me  from  my  cares* 

MEDEA. 
No  lack  of  cares  have  L 

CREON. 
Thou  from  this  spot 
Shalt  by  my  servants'  hands  ere  long  be  torn. 

MEDEA. 

Not  thus,  O  Creon,  I  your  mercy  crave. 

CREON. 

To  trouble  me,  it  seems,  thou  art  resolv'd. 

MEDEA. 

I  will  depart,  nor  urge  this  fond  request. 

CREON. 

Why  dost  thou  struggle  then,  nor  from  our  realm 
Withdraw  thyself? 

MEDEA. 

Allow  me  this  one  day 
Here  to  remain,  till  my  maturer  thoughts 
Instruct  me  to  what  region  I  can  fiy, 
Where  for  my  Sons  find  shelter,  since  their  Sire 
Attends  not  to  the  welfare  of  his  race. 
Take  pity  on  them,  for  you  also  know 
What  'tis  to  be  a  Parent,  and  must  feel 
Parental  love :  as  for  myself,  I  heed  not 
The  being  doom'd  to  exile,  but  lament 
Their  hapless  fortunes. 


MEDEA.  J265 

CREON. 

No  tyrannic  age 
Within  this  bosom  dwells,  but  pity  oft 
Haih  vvar|/d  my  better  judgement,  and  tho'  now 
My  error  I  perceive,  shall  thy  bequest 
Be  granted  :  yet  of  tliis  must  I  forewarn  thee  jj 
If  when  to-morrow  with  his  orient  beams 
Ph(jebus  the  worijl  revisits,  he  shall  view 
Thee  and  thy  children  still  within  the  bounds 
Of  these  domains,  thou  certainly  shalt  die, 
Th'  irrevocable  sentence  is  pronounc'd* 
But  if  thou  qeeds  must  tarry,  tarry  here 
This  single  day,  for  in  so  short  a  space 
Thou  canst  not  execute  the  ills  I  dread.  [EjciY  crbon. 

CHORUS. 

•Alas!  thou  wretched  woman,  overpowered 
By  thy  affliclions,  whither  wilt  thou  turn. 
What  hospitable  board,  what  mansion,  find. 
Or  country  to  protect  thee  from  these  ills? 
Into  what  storms  of  misery  have  the  Gods 
Caus'd  thee  to  rush ! 

MED£A« 

On  every  side  distress 
Assails  me:  who  can  contradict  this  truth f 
Yet  think  not  that  my  sorrows  thus  shall  end. 
By  yon  new-wedded  pair  must  be  sustained 
Dire  conflicts,  and  no  light  or  trivial  woes 
By  them  who  in  affinity  are  join'd 
With  this  devoted  house.     Can  ye  suppose 
That  I  would  e'er  have  sooth'd  him,  had  no  gain 
Or  stratagem  induced  me?  else  to  him 
Never  would  I  have  spoken,  nor  once  rais^ 
My  suppliant  hands.  '  But  now  is  he  so  lost 
In  folly,  that  when  all  my  schemes  with  ease 
He  might  have  baffled,  if  be  from  this  land 
Had  cast  me  forth,  he  gr.ints  me  to  remain 
For  this  one  day,  and  ere  the  setting  Sun, 


£66  MUPEA. 

Three  of  thy  foes  will  I  d^stroy^  the  Sirp, 

The  Daughter,  and  my  (H)  Husband rwarious  means 

Have  I  of  slaying  them,  and,  O  my  friends. 

Am  at  a  loss  to  fix  on  which  I  first 

Shall  undertake,  or  to  consume  with  flames 

The  bridal  mansion,  or  a  dagger  plunge 

Into  their  bosoms,  entering  unperceiv'd 

The  chamber  where  they  sleep :  but  there  remaias 

One  danger  to  obstruct  my  path ;  if  caught 

Stealing  into  the  palace,  and  intent 

Oh  such  emprise,  in  death  shall  I  afford 

A  subject  of  derision  to  my  foes. 

This  obvious  method  were  the  best,  in  which 

I  am  most  skilM,  to  take  their  lives  away 

By  sorcerieSj^Be  it  so  ;  suppose  them  dead. 

What  city  will  receive  me  for  its  guest. 

What  hospitable  foreigner  afford 

A  shelter  in  his  land,  or  to  his  hearth 

Admit,  or  snatch  me  from  impending  fate  I 

Alas !  I  have  no  friend.     I  will  delay 

A  little  longer  therefore,  if  perchance 

To  skreen  me  from  destruction,  I  can  find 

Some  fortress,  then  I  in  this  deed  of  blood 

With  artific^e  and  silence  will  engage. 

But,  if  by  woes  inextricable  urg'd 

Two  closely,  snatching  up  the  dagger,  them 

Am  I  resolv'd  to  slay,  altho'  myself 

Must  perish  too;  for  courage  unappall'd 

This  bosom  animates.    By  that  dread  Queen, 

By  her  whom  first  of  all  th'  immortal  Powers 

1  worship,  and  to  aid  my  bold  emprise 

(II)  *'  It  may  be  asked  how  it  came  to  pass,  that  Medea  did  not  cwiy 
**  into  execution  this  threat  of  killing  Jason.  She  was  prevetited  by  tfie 
*'  messenger,  who,  immediately  after  the  deaths  of  Gfence  and  Creon, 
**  terrified  her  by  saying,  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  fly  with  the  utmost 
*^  speed ;  she  therefore  had  not  time  to  accomplish  tlus  desigD  ag^U&st 
"  tier  husband.''    8pioi.iAST. 


Have  chosen^  the  thrictj  aweful.  Hecat4 

Who  in  my  inmerniost  apj^rtment  dwells^ 

Not  one  of  them  shall  triumph,  in  the  pangs 

With  which  they  MFOund  nay  beajt ;  for  I  will  render 

This  spousal  rite  to  them  a  plenteous  source 

Of  hitterhess  and  mournings  they  shall  rue 

Their  union^  rue  my  exile  from  this  land. 

But  now  come  on,  nor,  O  Medea,  spare 

Thy  utmost  science  to  devis^  and  fram^ 

Deep  stratagems,  with  swift  career  advance 

To  deeds  of  horror.     Such  a  strife  demands 

Thy  utmost  courj^ge.     Ha^t  thou  any  sense 

Of  these  indignities  ?  nor  is  it  fit 

That  thou,  who  spring'st  from  an  illustrious  Sire^ 

And  from  that  great  progenitor  the  (12)  Sun, 

Should'st  be  derided  by  the  impious  brood. 

Of  (13)  Sisyphus,  at  Jason's  nuptial  feast 


(12)  Hesiod,  in  hb  Gefipmfioa  of  the  Gods,  infonm  ys,  t|^t  the  Sua 
begot  on  Pcrseis  one  of  tlie  Daughters  of  Ocenau4  and  Tetl^,  the  en- 
chantress Circe,  and  ^etes  king  of  Colchos,  and  that  .^tes,  -with  the 
peculiar  approbation  of  the  Gods,  nianied  Idya,  one  of  the  sisters  of  hii 
mother  Perscis,  and  by  her  was  fi^tjier  t;^  Medea* 

(13)  Barnes  in  bis  note  interprets  this  as  spoken  of  Cr^on,  whom  he 
calls  the  son  of  Sisyphus ;  but  the  Scholiast,  in  his  observations  on  the 
SOtb.  verse  of  this  Tragedy,  asserts,  that  Creon's  father  was  Locaithos^ 
who  succeeded  Bellerophon,  Sisyphus's  Grandson,  in  the  throne  of 
Corinth,  but  does  not  appear  to  have  been  of  that  family.  It  appepus 
iVom  Homer,  that  Bellerophon  incurred  tlie  hatred  of  the  Godi,  and  wat 
expelled  from  his  hereditacy  dominious;  but  that,  in  consequence  of  Im 
having  married  the  Dan^ter  of  lobates  king  of  Lycia,  his  two  Grand- 
sons Sarpedon  and  Qlaucus  were  in  possession  of  the  sovereignty  of  that 
country  at  tWe  time  of  the  Trojan  v^ar,  at  which  period  it  does  i^ot  appcer 
that  any  of  the  posterity  of  Sisyphus  were  left  at  Corinth.  Jason  mmy 
without  any  great  impropriety  be  called  SMn/fcte;,  as  he  was  in  fact  tiait 
Great-nephew  of  Sisyphus ;  ApoUodorus  having  informed  us,  thj^t  Sjsy* 
phus  and  Cretheus^  ^ho&e  son  JEson  was  the  fatiier  of  Jason,  were  both 
of  them  sons  of  ^Ins.  These  circumstances  induce  me  to  think  that 
tmf^tiot  here  means  Jason.  In  Pafauerius  de  Grentemesnil,  ExerciUh 
tiones  in  Auctores  Gnecos,  it  is  supposed  that  the  king  of  Cprinth  here 
spoken  of  is  the  elder  Ghincus,  who  was  the  son  of  Sisyphus,  and  father 
to  BeHerophon,  and  that  he  txore  two  names,  or  rather  that  the  name  of 


f68  '  MEDEA. 

Expos'd  to  scorn :  for  thou  hast  ample  skill 
To  right  thyself.    Altho'  by  nature  form'd 
Without  a  genius  apt  for  virtuous  deeds. 
We  women  are  in  mischiefs  most  expert. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  1. 

Now  upward  to  their  source  the  rivers  flow. 
And  in  a  retrogade  career 

Justice  and  all  the  baffled  virtues  go. 
The  views  of  man  are  insincere. 
Nor  to  the  Gods  tho'  he  appeal. 
And  with  an  oath  each  promise  seal. 
Can  he  be  trusted.     Yet  doth  veering  Fame 
Loudly  assert  the  female  claim. 
Causing  our  sex  to  be  renown'd. 
And  our  whole  lives  with  glory  crown'd. 
No  longer  shall  we  mourn  the  wrongs 
Of  slanderous  and  inhuman  tongues. 

I.  2. 

Nor  shall  the  Muses,  as  in  (14)  antient  days. 
Make  the  deceit  of  womankind 

Creon  is  here  given  him  by  Enrqpides  merely  qb  King ;  Kpuiff  regmmSy 
impenaiSy  dominus.  This  explanation  accords  much  better  than  that  of 
the  Scholiast  with  the  period  of  Medea's  residence  at  Corinth,  which  was 
cnly  a  few  years  subsequent  to  the  Argonautic  expedition ;  but  not  with 
the  nsoal  accounts  of  the  death  of  Glaucns,  who  is  represented  as  having 
been  torn  in  pieces  by  his  mares  called  Potniades,  from  having  been 
trained  by  him  at  Potnia,  a  city  in  Boeotia,  who,  according4o  one  of  the 
Scholiasts  on  the  PhoenissR,  v.  1141.  edit.  King,  became  so  furious,  that 
they  at  length  devoured  their  Lord. 

(14)  ^  Alluding  to  the  Poems  of  Archilochns,  who  was  an  antient 
**  writer  in  respect  to  Eoripides,  though  not  in  req>ect  to  Medea.**  Dr. 
MoBgran^  This  Ode  treating  of  the  faults  of  the  two  sexes  and  their 
aotnal  reproaches,  is  particolariy  calculated  to  remind  the  reader  of  the 
cootroveny  and  festive  ta«nts  mentioned  by  Conon,  as  having  passed 
between  Medea  and  her  female  attendants  on  one  part,  and  Jason  and  the 
comrades  win  saiM  with  Inoi  m  the  Aigo  on  the  otiier,  after  they  had 


MEDEA.  z6d 

The  constant  theme  of  their  malignant  lays* 

For  ne'er  on  our  uncultured  mind 

Hath  Phoebus  God  of  verse  bestow'd 

Genius  to  frame  the  lofty  ode^ 
Else  had  we  wak'd  the  lyre,  and  in  reply 

With  descant^  x)n  man's  infamy 

Oft  lengthened  out  th'  opprobrious  page. 

Yet  may  we  from  each  distant  age 

Collect  $uch  records  as  disgrace 

Both  us  and  man's  imperious  race, 

II.  1. 
By  love  distracted,  from  thy  native  strand^ 
Thou  'twixt  the  ocean's  clashing  rocks  did'st  sail. 
But  now,  loath'd  inmate  of  a  foreign  land. 
Thy  treacherous  Husband's  loss  art  doom'd  to  wail : 
O  hapless  matron  overwhelm'd  with  woe. 
From  this  unpitying  realm  dishonour'd  must  thou  go. 

II.  2. 
No  longer  sacred  oaths  their  credit  bear, 
iVnd  virtuous  Shame  hath  left  the  Grecian  plain> 
She  mounts  to  Heaven,  and  breathes  a  purer  air. 
For  thee  doth  no  paternal  house  remain 
The  sheltering  haven  from  affliction's  tides: 
Over  these  hostile  roofs  a  mightier  Queen  presides. 

JASON,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

JASON. 

Not  now  for  the  first  time,  but  oft,  full  oft 
Have  I  observ'd  that  anger  is  a  pest 
The  most  unruly.    For  when  in  this  land. 
These  mansions,  you  in  peace  might  have  abode. 
By  patiently  submitting  to  the  will 

all  esd^ed  from  imminent  danger  of  shipwreck,  and  landed  in  the  island 

of  Anaph^,  one  of  the  Sporades,  situated  in  the  Cretan  sea.    The  reader  ^ 

will  find  this  liistory  either  in  Hist.  Poet.  Script,  p.  g98.  edit.  Paris  1675, 

8to.  (NT  Photii  Bibliotfa,  p.  456.  edit.  Rothomagi  16d3,  folio. 


v^ 


€70        ^  MEDEA. 

Of  ybtir  superiors,  you,  for  empty  word». 

Are  doom'd  to  exile.    Not  that  I  regard  . 

Your  calling  Jason  With  incessant  i**ge  ^  <i 

The  worst  of  men  :   but  for  thdse  bitter  tfttfrVt*  ^ 

With  which  you  have  j^vird  a  mighty'King,  r 

Too  mild  a  penalty  taay  you'eiteem  ^ 

Such  banishment.     I  still  have  sfOfoth'd  the  wWith  j^ 

Of  the  offended  Monarch,  still  have  wished 

That  you  might  here  c^tinue  :   but  tio  b6und9  _  ^ 

Your  folly  knows,  nor  can  that  tongue  e^er  cease  ^ 

To  utter  menaces  against  your  Lords  :  ?- 

Hence  from  these  regions  justly  are  you  doom'd  ro 

To  be  cast  forth.     But  with  unwearied  love 

Attentive  to  your  interest  am  I  come,  j. 

Lest  with  your  Children  you  by  cruel  want 

Should  be  encompassed  :  exile  with  it  brings 

Full  many  evils.    Me,  tho'  you  abhor. 

To  you  I  harbor  no  unfriendly  thought. 

MEDEA. 

Thou  worst  of  villains  (for  this  bitter  charge 
Against  thy  abject  cowardice  my  tongue 
May  justly  urge),  com'st  thou  to  me,  O  wretch. 
Who  to  the  Gods  art  odious,  and  to  me  )- 

And  all  the  human  race  ?  it  is  no  proof  i 

Of  courage,   or  of  stedfastness,   to  face  '^ 

Thy  injur'd  friends,  but  impudence  the  worst  '^ 

Of  all  diseases.    Yet  hast  thou  done' well  v^ 

In  coming :  I  by  uttering  the  reproaches  ^ 

Which  thou  deserv'st,  shall  ease  my  buirden'd  soul,  ^ 
And  thou  wilt  grieve  to  hear  them.  With  th'  events  ? 
Which  happened  first,  will  I  begin  ray  charge.  ^ 

Each  Grecian  chief  who  in  the  Argo  sail'd^  ^^ 

Knows  how  (rqm  death  I  sav'd  thee,  when  to  yoke 
The  raging  bulls  whose  nostrils  pour'd  forth  flames, 
And  sow  the  baleful  harvest,  thou  wert  sent:  b 

Then  having  slain  the  Dragon,  who  preserved  ^^ 

With  man  J  a  scaly  fold  the  golden  fleece,  )  3 

0 


N 

Id" 


fO 


MED^A.  271 

• 

Nor  ever  cWd  in  sleep  his  watchful  eyes, 
I  caus'd  the  morn  with  its  auspicious  beams 
To  shine  on  thy  deliverance;   but  my  Sire 
And  nativie  land  "betraying,  came  with  thee 
To  Pelion,  and  lolchos'  gates  :   for  love 
PrevaiFd  o'erreason.     Pelias  next  I  sle^ 
Most  wretthed  death,  by  his  own  Daughters'  handsj 
And  thus  deliver'd  thee  from  all  thy  fears. 
Yet  tho'  to  me,   O  most  ungrateful  man. 
Thus  much  indebted,  hast  thou  prov'd*  a  traitor. 
And  to  the  arms  of  this  new  Consort  fled 
Altho*  a  rising  progeny  is  thin^. 
Hadst  thou  been  childless,  'twere  a  venial  fault  . 
In  thee  to  court  another  for  thy  Bride. 
But  vanished  is  the  faith  which  oaths  erst  bore, 
Nor  can  I  judge,  whether  thou  think'st  the  Gods 
Who  rul'd  the  world,  have  lost  their  ahtient  power. 
Or  that  fresh  laws  at  present  are  in  force 
Among  mankind,  because  thou  to  thyself 
Art  conscious,  thou  thy  plighted  faith  hast  broken. 
^^^  XRy  right  hand,  which  thou  did'st  oft  embrace, 
Oft  to  these  knees  a  suppliant  cling !  how  vainly 
Did  I  my  virgin  purity  yield  up 
To  a  perfidious  Husband,  led  astray 
By  flattering  hopes  I  yet  I  to  thee  will  speak 
As  if  thou  wert  a  friend,  and  I  expected 
From  thee  some  mighty  favour  to  obtain  : 
Yet  thou,  if  strictly  questioned,   must  apnear 
More  odious.    Whither  shall  I  tuin  me  now? 
To  those  deserted  mansions  of  my  Father, 
Which,  with  my  country,  I  to  thee  betray'd. 
And  hither  came;  or  to  the  wretched  Daughters 
,Of  Pelias?  th^y  forsooth,  whose  Sire  I  slew. 
Beneath  their  roofs  with  kindness  would  receive  me, 
*Ti8  even  thus :  by  those  of  my  own  house 
Am  I  detested,  and,  to  serve  thy  cause. 
Those  very  friends,  whom  least  of  all  I  ought 


272  MEDEA. 

To  have  unkindly  treated,  have  I  made 

My  enemies^  But  eager  to  repay 

Such  favors,  *mongst  unnuuiber^d  Grecian  dames. 

On  me  superior  bliss  hast  thou  bestow'd 

And  I,  unhappy  woman,  find  in  thee 

A  Husband  who  deserves  to  be  admir'd 

For  his  fidelity.     But  from  this  realm 

When  I  am  exil'd,  and  by  every  friend 

Deserted,  with  my  Children  left  forlorn, 

A  glorious  triumph,  in  thy  bridal  hour, 

To  thee  will  it  afford,  if  those  thy  Sons, 

And  I  who  sav'd  thee,  should  like  Vagrants  roam» 

Wherefore,  O  Jove,   didst  thou  instruct  mankind 

How  to  distinguish  by  undoubted  marks 

Counterfeit  gold,  yet  in  the  front  of  vice 

Impress  no  brand  to  shew  the  tainted  heart  i 

CHORUS. 

How  sharp  their  wrath,   how  hard  to  be  appeas'd> 
When  friends  with  friends  begin  the  cruel  strife. 

JASON. 
I  ought  not  to  be  rash  it  seems  in  speech^ 
But  like  the  skilful  ))ilot,  who  with  sails 
Scarce  half  unfurFd,  his  bark  more  surely  guides. 
Escape,  O  woman,  your  ungovern*d  tongue. 
Since  you  the  benefits  on  me  conferred. 
Exaggerate  in  so  proud  a  strain,   I  deem 
That  1  to  Venus  only,   and  no  God 
Or  man  beside,  my  prosperous  voyage  owe. 
:  Altho'  a  wondrous  subtlety  of  soul 
To  you  belong,  'twere  an  invidious  speech 
For  me  to  make,  should  I  relate  how  Love 
By  his  inevitable  (15)  shafts  constrained  you 
To  save  my  life.     I  will  not  therefore  state 

(15)  The  reading  of  Tofo*;  a<pi/x?oif,  instead  of  lieiwr  o^tiv,  is  adopted 
by  Lascaris,  one  of  the  Scholiasts,  Dr.  Musgrave  and  Brunck,  and, 
according  to  the  two  latter,  authorised  by  a  variety  of  mannscnpts. 
Barnes  and  Carmelli  have  noticed,  but  not  received  it. 


•■''*.',  ?"i:rvX«.!  «v  .^^ 


MEDEA.  £73 

This  argument  too  nicely,  but  allow. 
As  you  did  aid  me,  it  was  kindly  done. 
But  by  preserving  me  have  you  gain'd  more 
Than  you  bestow'd,  as  I  shall  prove :  and  first 
Transplanted  from  Barbaric  shores  you  dwell 
In  Grecian  regions,  and  have  here  been  taught 
To  .act  as  justice  and  the  laws  ordain, 
Npi^  follow  the  caprice  of  brutal  strength. 
^^oy  all  the  Greeks  your  wisdom  is  perceiv'd^ 
And  you  acquire  renown  ;  but  had  you  still 
Inhabited  that  distant  spot  of  earth, 
You  never  had  been  nam'4«    I  would  not  wish 
For  mansions  heap'd  with  gold,  or  to  exceed 
The  sweetest  notes  of  Orpheus'  magic  lyre. 
Were  those  unfading  wreaths  which  fame  bestows, 
From  me  withheld  by  Fortune.    I  thus  far 
On  my  own  labors  only  have  discoure'd. 
For  you  this  odious  strife  of  words  began. 
But  in  espousing  Creon's  royal  Daughter, 
With  which  you  havereproach'd  me,  I  will  prove 
That  I  in  acting  thus  am  wise  and  chaste. 
That  I  to  you  have  been  the  best  of  friends, 
And  to  our  Children.    But  inake  no  reply. 
Since  hither  from  lolchos'  land  I  came. 
Accompanied  by  many  woes,  and  such 
As  could  not  be  avoided,  what  device 
More  advantageous  could  an  exile  frame. 
Than  wedding  the  King's  Daughter  ?    Not  thro'  hate 
To  you,  which  you  reproach  me  with,  not  smitten 
With  love  for  a  new  Consort,  or  a  wish 
The  number  of  my  Children  to  augment : 
For  those  we  have  already  might  suffice. 
And  I  complain  not.    But  to  me  it  seem'd 
Of  great  importance,  that  we  both  might  live 
As  suits  our  rank,  nor  suffer  abject  need. 
Well  knowing  that  each  friend  avoids  the  poor. 
I  also  wish'd  to  educate  our  Sons 

VOIm   1  T 


274  MEDEA. 

In  such  a  manner  as  befits  my  race, 

And  with  their  noble  Brothers  yet  unborn.. 

Make  them  one  family^  that  thus  my  house 

Cementing,  I  might  prosper.     In  some  measure. 

Is  it  your  interest  too  that  by  my  Bride 

I  should  have  Sons,  and  me  it  much  imports^ 

By  future  Children,  to  provide  for  those 

Who  are  in  being.     Have  I  judg'd  amiss  ? 

You  woul  I  not  censure  me,  unles<t  your  soul 

Were  by  a  rival  stung.     But  your  whole  sex 

Hath  these  ideas ;  if  in  marriage  blest 

Ye  deem  nought  wanting  :  but  if  some  reverse 

Of  fortune  e'er  betide  the  nuptial  couch^ 

All  that  was  good  and  lovely  ye  abhor. . 

Far  better  were  it  for  the  human  race. 

Had  Children  been  produc'd  by  other  means, 

No  (1 6)  females  e'er  existing :  hence  might  man, 

Exempt  from  every  evil  have  remain'd. 

CHORUS. 
Thy  words  hast  thou  with  specious  art  adorned. 
Yet  thou  to  me,  (it  is  against  my  will 

(16)   "  As  extraordinary  as  it  may  appear,  yet  two  of  the  greatest 
'^  Poets  that  England  ever  saw,  have  imitated  this  sentiment. 

"  Is  there  no  way  for  men  to  be,  but  women 

"  Must  be  half-workers?"  Shakespeare,  CymbeKiie. 

"  O  why  did  God, 
**  Creator  wise,  that  peopled  highest  Heaven 
*^  With  spirits  masciihue,  create  at  last 
**  This  novelty  on  eartli,  this  fair  defect 
"  Of  nature,  and  not  fill  the  world  at  first 
"  AVith  mei?  is  angels  without  feminine, 
"  Or  find  some  other  vray  to  generate 
"  Mankind?"  Milton. 

Upton's  preface  to  bis  observations  on  Shakespeare. 

The  reader  will  again  meet  witli  tlie  same  idea,  which  is  drawn  out  to 
a  much  greater  length  by  Euripides  in  his  Ilippolytus  ;  whence  Amadis 
Jaroyn,  a  French  Poet  of  no  inconsiderable  eminence  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  has  borrowed  some  of  the  most  striking  passages  in  his 
**  Misogame."    See  his  Oeuvr«iS  Poetiqucs,  4to.  p.  237.  Paris,  1575. 


;»iS 


MEDEA.  ?75 

That  I  such  language  hold)  O  Jason,  seem'st 
Not  to  have  acted  justly  in  betraying 
Thy  Consort. 

MEDEA. 

From  the  many  I  dissent 
In  many  points  :  for  in  iny  judgement,  he 
Who  tramples  on  the  laws,  but  can  express 
His  thoughts  with  plausibility,  deserves 
Severest  punishment:  for  that  injustice 
On  which  he  glories,  with  his  artful  tongue. 
That  he  a  fair  appearance  can  bestow. 
He  dares  to  practise,  nor  is  truly  wise. 
No  longer  then  this  specious  language  hold 
To  me,  who  by  one  word  can  strike  thee  dumb. 
Had'st  thou  not  acted  with  a  base  design. 
It  was  thy  duty  first  to  have  prevaiFd 
On  me  to  give  consent,  ere  these  espousals 
Thou  had'st  contracted,  nor  kept  such  design 
A  secret  from  thy  friends. 

JASON. 

You  would  have  serv'd 
My  cause  most  gloriously,  had  I  disclosed 
To  you  my  purposed  nuptials,  when  the  rage 
Of  that  proud  heart  still  unsubdued  remains. 

MEDEA. 

Thy  real  motive  was  not  what  thou  say'st. 
But  a  Barbarian  wife,  in  thy  (17)  old  age. 
Might  have  appeared  to  tarnish  thy  renown. 

JASON. 
Be  well  assured,  love  urg'd  me  not  to  take 
The  Daughter  of  the  monarch  to  my  bed. 
But  'twas  my  wish  to  save  you  from  distress. 
As  I  already  have  declared,  and  raise 

(17)  "  Why  in  old  agef    I  imagine  bocaiise  they  -vdio  are  advanced    ' 
^  in  years  are  wont  to  be  influenced  not  by  love  but  by  ambition." 

Dr.  MOSGRAVE. 

'      T  2 


276  MEDEA. 

Some  royal  Brothers  to  our  former  Sons, 
Strengthening  with  fresh  supports  our  shattered  housev^ 

MEDEA. 

May  that  prosperity  which  brings  remorse 
Be  never  mine^  nor  riches  such  as  sting 
The  soul  with  anguish. 

JASON. 

Are  you  not  aware 
You  soon  will  change  your  mind  and  grow  more  wise? 
Forbear  to  spurn  the  blessings  you  possess^ 
Nor  droop  beneath  imaginary  woes. 
When  you  are  happy. 

MEDEA. 

Scoff  at  my  distress. 
For  thou  hast  an  asylum  to  receive  thee : 
But  from  this  land  am  I  constrain'd  to  roam 
A  lonely  exile. 

JASON. 

This  was  your  own  choice : 
Accuse  none  else. 

MEDEA. 

What  have  I  done  ;  betrayed 
My  plighted  faith,  and  sought  a  foreign  bed  ? 

JASON,  .  ] 

You  utter'd  impious  curses  'gainst  the  King* 

MEDEA. 

I  also  in  thy  mansions  am  accurs'd. 

JASON. 

With  you  I  on  these  subjects  will  contend 
No  longer.     But  speak  freely,  what  relief. 
Or  for  the  children  or  your  exil'd  state. 
You  from  my  prosperous  fortunes  would  receive : 
For  with  a  liberal  hand  am  I  inclined 
My  bounties  to  confer,  and  hence  dispatch 
Such  tokens,  as  to  hospitable  kindness 
Will  recommend  you.    Woman,  to  refuse 
These  offers  were  mere  folly ;  from  your  soul 


MEDEA.  vn 

Banish  resentment^  and  no  trifling  gain 
Will  hence  ensue. 

MEDEA. 

No  use  I  of  thy  friends 
>Vill  make,  nor  aught  accept;  thy  presents  spare. 
For  nothing  which  the  wicked  man  can  give 
Proves  beneficial. 

JASON. 
I  invoke  the  Gods 
To  witness  that  I  gladly  would  supply 
You  and  your  Children  with  whatever  ye  need  : 
But  you  these  favors  loathe,  and  with  disdain 
Repell  your  friends :  hence  an  increase  of  woe 
Shall  be  your  lot. 

MEDEA. 

Be  gone ;  for  thou  with  love 
For  thy  young  Bride  inflam'd,  too  long  remain'st 
Without  the  palace :  wed  her :  tho'  perhaps 
(Yet  with  submission  to  the  righteous  Gods, 
This  I  announce)  such  marriage  thou  may'st  rue. 

{Exit  JASON. 
CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  I. 

Th'  immoderate  Loves  in  their  career, 
^or  glory  nor  esteem  attends, 
But  when  the  Cyprian  Queen  descends 
Benignant  from  her  starry  sphere. 
No  Goddess  can  more  justly  claim 

From  man  the  grateful  prayer. 
Thy  wrath,  O  Venus,  still  forbear, 
Nor  at  my  tender  bosom  aim 
That  venora'd  arrow,  ever  wont  t*  inspire, 
VVing'd  from  thy  golden  bow,  the  pangs  of  keen  desire^ 

I.  S. 

May  I  in  modesty  delight, 

Best  present  which  the  Gods  can  give. 


1 


27S  MEDEA. 

Nor  tom'by  jarring  passions  live 
A  prey  to  wrath  and  canker'd  spite. 
Still  envious  of  a  rivcil's  charms. 

Nor  rouse  the  endless  strife 
While  on  my  soul  another  Wife, 
Impresses  vehement  alarms : 
On  us,  dread  Queen,  thy  mildest  influence  shed. 
Thou  who  discern'st  each  crime  that  stains  the  nuptial  bed. 

II.  1. 

My  native  land,  and  dearest  home ! 

May  I  ne'er  know  an  exil'd  state. 

Nor  be  it  ever  my  sad  fate. 

While  from  thy  well-known  bourn  I  roam. 

My  hopeless  anguish  to  bemoan. 

Rather  let  death,  let  xleath 
Take  at  that  hour  mv  forfeit  breath. 
For  surely  never  was  there  known ' 
On  earth  a  curse  so  great,  as  to  exceed 
From  his  lov'd  country  torn,  the  wretched  exile's  ijeed. 

II.  2. 
These  eyes  attest  thy  piteous  tale, 
Which  not  from  fame  alone  we  know  ; 
But,  O  thou  royal  Dame,  thy  woe 
No  generous  city  doth  bewail. 
Nor  one  among  thy  former  friends. 
Abhorr'd  by  Heaven  and  Earth, 
Perish  the  wretch  devoid  of  worth. 
Engrossed  by  mean  and  selfish  ends. 
Whose  heart  expands  not,  those  he  lov'd,  to  aid ; 
Never  may  I  lament  attachments  thus  repaid. 

^GEUS,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

iEGEUjS. 

Medea,  hail !  for  no  mau  can  devise 
Terms  more  auspicious  to  accost  |;iis  friends. 


MEDEA.  279 

MEDEA. 
And  yoy^  O  Son  of  wise  Pandion^  hail 
Illustrious  iBgeus.     But  to  these  domains 
Whence  came  vou  f 

iEGEUS. 

From  Apollo's  antient  shrine. 

MEDEA. 

But  to  that  centre  of  the  world,  whence  sounds 
Prophetic  issue,  why  did  you  repair  ? 

£OEUS. 

To  question  by  what  means  I  may  obtain 
A  race  of  Chiidieq. 

MEDEA. 

By  the  Gods  inform  me. 
Are  you  still  doom'd  to  drag  a  childless  life  ? 

JEGEUS. 

Such  is  the  influence  of  some  adverse  Demon. 

MEDEA. 

Have  you  a  Wife,  or  did  you  never  try 
The  nuptial  yoke  f 

iEGEUS 

With  wedlock's  sacred  bonds 
I  am  not  unacquainted. 

MEDEA 

On  the  subject 
Of  Children,  what  did  Phoebus  say  ? 

JEGEUS. 

His  words 
Were  such  as  mortals  cannot  comprehend. 

MEDEA. 

Am  I  allow'd  to  know  the  God's  reply  ? 

^GEUS. 

Thou  surely  art :  such  mystery  to  expound 
There  needs  the  help  of  thy  sagacious  soul. 

MEDEA. 

Inform  me  what  the  oracle  pronounc'd, 
If  I  may  hear  it. 


.# 


280  MEDEA. 

XOEV8. 

'*  The  projecting  foot, 
^^  Thou  J  of  the  vessel  must  not  dare  to  loose -• 

MEDEA. 

Till  you  do  whaty  or  to  what  region  come  ? 

/EOEU8. 

*'  Till  thou  return  to  thy  paternal  Lares.'' 

MEDEA.' 

But  what  are  you  in  need  of,  that  yon  steer 
Ifour  bark  to  Corinth's  shores  i 

iEGEUS. 

A  King,  whose  name; 
Is  Pittheus,  o'er  Troezene's  realm  presides. 

MEDEA« 

That  most  religious  man,  they  say,  is  Son 
Of  Pelops. 

iEGEUS. 
I  with  him  would  fain  discuss 
The  God's  prophetic  voice, 

MEDEA. 

For  he  is  wise, 
And  in  this  science  long  hath  been  expert. 

-flEGEUS. 

Dearest  to  me  of  those  with  whom  I  form'd 
A  league  of  friendship  in  the  embattled  field. 

MEDEA. 

But,  O  may  you  be  happy,  and  obtain 
All  that  you  wish  for. 

IEQEV8. 

Why  those  downcast  eyes. 
That  wasted  form  f  ■ 

MEDEA. 

O  -Slgeus,  h^I  wedded. 
To  me  hath  prov'd  of  all  mankind  most  base. 

JEGEUS. 

Whatmean'st  thou  ?  In  plain  terms  thy  grief  declare, 


MEDEA.  s  fi91 

MEDEA. 

Jason  hatb  wrong'd  me^  tho'  without  a  cause. 

JEGEUS. 

Be  more  ei^plicit,  what  injurious  treatment 
Complain'st  thou  off 

MEDEA. 

To  me  hath  he  preferred 
Another  Wife,  the  mistress  of  this  house. 

^GEusr. 

Dar'd  he  to  act  so  basely  ? 

MEDEA. 

Be  assur'd 
That  I  whom  erst  he  lov'd,  am  now  forsaken. 

/EGEUS. 

What  amorous  passion  triumphs  o'er  his  soul  ? 
Or  doth  he  loathe  thy  bed  ? 

MEDEA. 

Tis  mighty  love. 
That  to  his  first  attachment  makes  him  false. 

JEGEUS. 

Let  him  depart  then,  if  he  be  so  void 
Of  honor  as  thou  say'st. 

MEDEA. 

He  sought  to  form 
Alliance  with  a  monarch. 

JEGEUS. 

Who  bestows 
On  him  a  royal  Bride  ?  conclude  thy  tale. 

MEDEA. 

Creon,  the  ruler  of  this  land. 

^Gfcys. 

I'hy  sorrows 
Are  then  excusable. 

MEDEA. 

I  am  undone. 
And  banish'd  hence. 


«82  MEDEA. 

iEGEUS. 

By  whom  i  there's  not  a  word 
Thou  utter'st  but  unfolds  fresh  scenes  of  woe. 

MEDEA. 

Me  from  this  realm  to  exile  Creon  drives. 

i£GEUS. 

Doth  Jason  suffer  this  ?  I  cannot  praise 
Such  conduct. 

MEDEA. 

Not  in  words :  tho'  he  submits 
Without  reluctance.     But  I  by  that  beard, 
And  by  those  knees,  a  wretched  suppliant,  crave 
Your  pity,  see  me  not  cast  forth  forlorn. 
But  to  your  realms  and  to  your  social  hearth 
Receive  me  as  a  guest ;  so  may  your  wish 
For  children  be  accomplish'd  by  the  Gods, 
4^nd  happiness  your  close  of  life  attend. 
But  how  important  a  discovery  Fortune 
To  you  here  makes,  you  are  not  yet  apprized ; 
For  destitute  of  heirs  will  I  permit  you 
No  longer  to  remain,  but  thro'  my  aid 
Shall  you  have  sons,  such  potent  drugs  I  know. 

iEGEUS. 

Various  inducements  urge  me  to  comply 
With  this  request,  O  woman ;  first  an  awe 
For  the  immortal  Gods,  and  then  the  hope 
That  I  the  promis'd  issue  shall  obtain. 
On  what  my  senses  scarce  can  comprehend 
I  will  rely.     O  that  thy  arts  may  prove 
Effectual !    Thee,  if  haply  thou  arriv*i&t 
In  my  domain,  with  hospitable  rites. 
Shall  it  be  my  endeavonto  receive. 
As  justice  dictates;  but  to  thee,  thus  much 
It  previously  behoves  me  to  announce  : 
I  will  not  take  thee  with  me  from  this  realm ; 
But  to  my  house  if  of  thyself  thou  come. 


MEDEA.  (283 

Thou  a  secure  asylum  there  shalt  find, 

Nor  will  I  yield  thee  up  to  any  foe. 

'But  hence  without  my  aid  must  thou  depart. 

Fori,  from  those  who  in  this  neighbouring  land 

Of  Corinth  entertain  me  as  their  guest. 

Wish  to  incur  no  censure. 

Your  commands 
Shall  be  obey'd  :  but  would  you  plight  your  faith 
That  you  this  promise  will  to  me  perform, 
A  noble  friend  in  you  shall  I  have  found. 

JEGEUS. 

Believ'st  thou  not  ?  whence  rise  these  anxious  doubts  ? 

MEDEA. 

In  you  I  trust ;  tho'  Pelias'  hostile  race. 
And  Creon's  hate  pursue  me  :  but,  if  bound 
By  the  firm  sanction  of  a  solemn  oath. 
You  will  not  suffer  them  with  brutal  force 
To  drag  me  from  your  realm,  but  having  entered 
Into  such  compact,  and  by  every  God 
Sworn  to  protect  me,  still  remain  a  friend. 
Nor  hearken  to  their  embassies.     My  fortune 
Is  in  its  wane,  but  wealth  to  them  belongs. 
And  ^n  imperial  mansion. 

;egeus. 

In  these  words 
Hast  thou  expressed  great  forethought :  but  if  thus 
Thou  art  disposed  to  act,  I  my  consent 
Will  not  refuse  ;  for  I  shall  be  more  safe. 
If  to  thy  foes  some  plausible  excuse 
I  can  allege,  and  thee  more  firmly  stablish. 
But  say  thou  first  what  Gods  I  shall  invoke. 

MEDEA. 

Swear  by  the  Earth  on  which  we  tread,  the  Sun 
JMy  Grandsire,  and  by  all  the  race  pf  Gods. 

JEGEUS. 

What  action,  or  to  do,  or  to  forbear  ? 


-i^£l^ijk\-.r,  »     ■\ir^'». 


284  MEDEA. 

M£1>EA. 
That  from  your  land  you  never  will  expel. 
Nor  while  you  live  consent  that  any  foe 
Shall  tear  me  thence. 

By  Earthy  the  radiant  Sun, 
And  every  God  I  swear,  1  to  the  terms 
Thou  hast  proposM  will  sted lastly  adhere. 

MEDE^ 

This  may  suffice.    But  what  if  you  infringe 
Your  oathj  what  punishment  will  you  endure? 

iEOEUS. 

Each  curse  that  can  befall  the  impious  man. 

MEDEA. 

Depart^  and  proi»per :  all  things  now  advance 
In  their  right  tracks  and  with  the  utmost  speed 
I  to  your  city  will  direct  my  course, 
Whei;i  I  have  executed  those  designs 
I  meditate,  and  compass'd  what  I  wish.  {Exit  jBOBlxs. 

CHORUS. 
But  thee,  O  King,  may  Main's  winged  Son 
Lead  to  thy  Athens,  there  may'st  thou  attain 
All  th.1t  ihy  soul  desires,  for  thou  to  me, 

0  -^geus,  seem'st  most  generous. 

MEDEA. 

Aweful  Jove, 
Thou  too,  O  Justice,  who  art  ever  join'd 
With  thundering  Jove,  and  bright  Hyperion's  beams^ 
You  I  invoke :  now,  O  my  friends,  o'er  those 

1  hate  shall  we  prevail :  Ttis  the  career 
Of  victory  that  we  tread,  and  I  nt  length 
Have  hopes  the  strictest  vengeance  on  my  foes 
To  execute  :  for  where  we  most  in  need 

Of  a  protector  stood,  appeared  this  stranger. 
The  haven  of  my  counsels :  we  shall  fix 
Our  cables  to  this  poop,  soon  as  we  reach 
That  hallow'd  city  where  Minerva  reigns.  ■ 


MEDEA.  285 

But  now  to  you  the  whole  of  mj  designs 
Will  I  relate ;  look  not  for  such  a  tale 
As  yields  delight :  some  servant  will  I  send 
An  interview  with  Jason  to  request^ 
And  on  his  comings  in  the  softest  words 
Address  him  ;  say,  these  matters  are  well  pleasing 
To  me,  and  in  the  strongest  terms  applaud 
That  marriage  with  the  Daughter  of  the  Kingy 
Which  now  the  traitor  celebrates  ;  then  add, 
*'  Tis  for  our  mutual  good,  'tis  rightly  done.'* 
But  the  request  which  I  intend  to  make. 
Is  that  he  here  will  let  my  Children  stay ; 
Not  that  I  mean  to  leave  them  thus  behind 
Expos'd  to  insults  in  a  hostile  realm. 
From  those  I  hate ;  but  that  my  arts  may  slay 
The  royal  Maid :  with  presents  in  their  hands, 
A  vesture  finely  wrought  and  golden  crown, 
Will  I  dispatch  them ;  these  they  to  the  Bride 
Skall  bear,  that  she  their  exile  may  reverse  : 
If  these  destructive  ornaments  she  take 
And  put  them  on^  both  she,  and  every  one 
Who  touches  heo  shall  miserably  perish  : 
My  presents  with  such  drugs  I  will  anoint. 
Far  as  to  this  relates,  here  ends  my  spe^h. 
[But  I  with  anguish  think  upon  a  deed 
Of  more  than  common  horror,  which  remains 
By  me  to  be  accomplish'd :  for  my  Sons 
Am  I  resolved  to  slay,  them  from  this  arm 
Shall  no  man  rescue:  when  I  thus  have  fill'd 
With  dire  confusion  Jason's  wretched  house, 
I,  from  this  land,  yet  reeking  with  the  gore 
Of  my  dear  Sons,  will  fly,  and  having  dar'd 
A  deed  mosi  impious.     For  the  scornful  taunts 
Of  those  we  hate  are  not  to  be  endur'd. 
Happen  what  may.    Can  life  be  any  gain 
To  me  who  have  no  country  left,  no  home, 
No  plaoe  of  refuge  ?  Greatly  did  1  err 


t^ 


.\ 


fiS6  M£DEA. 

When  I  forsook  the  mansions  of  my  Sire, 
Persuaded  by  the  flattery  of  that  Greek 
Whom  I  will  punish^  if  just  Heaven  permit* 
For  he  shall  not  again  behold  the  Children 
I  bore  him  while  yet  living.     From  his  Bride 
Nor  shall  there  issue  any  second  race ; 
Since  that  vile  woman^  by  my  baleful  drugs 
Vilely  to  perish,  have  the  Fates  ordain'd. 
None  shall  think  lightly  of  me,  as  if  weak, 
Of  courage  void,  or  with  a  soul  too  tame> 
But  form'd  by  Heaven  in  a  far  different  mould. 
The  terror  of  my  foes,  and  to  my  friends 
Benignant :  for  most  glorious  are  the  lives 
Of  those  who  act  with  such  detcrmin'd  zeal. 

CHORUS. 
Since  thy  design  thus  freely  thou  to  us 
Communicat'st,  1  thro'  a  wish  to  serve 
Thy  interests,  and  a  reverence  for  those  laws 
Which  all  mankind  hold  sacred,  from  thy  purpose 
Exhort  thee  to  desist. 

MEDEA. 
This  cannot  be: 
Yet  I  from  you,  because  ye  have  not  felt 
Distress  like  mine,  such  language  can  excuse. 

CHORUS. 

Thy  guiltless  Children  wilt  thou  dare  to  slay? 

MEDEA. 

My  Husband  hence  more  deeply  shall  I  wound. 

CHORUS. 

But  thou  wilt  of  all  women  be  most  wretched. 

MEDEA. 

No  matter  :  all  the  counsels  ye  can  give 
Are  now  superfluous.     But  this  instant  go 
And  Jason  hither  bring  :  for  on  your  faith. 
In  all  things  I  depend ;  nor  these  resolves 
Will  you  divulge  if  you  your  mistress  love. 
And  feel  a  woman's  interest  in  my  wrongs. 


^  MEDEA.  «7 

CHORU9. 

ODE, 

L  1. 

^     Heroes  of  Erectheus*  race. 

To  the  Gods  who  owe  your  birth, 

And  in  a  long  succession  trace 

Your  sacred  origin  from  Earthy 

Who  on  wisdom's  fruit  regale. 

Purest  breezes  still  inhale. 

And  behold  skies  ever  bright, 

Wandering  thro'  those  haunted  glades, 
Where  fame  relates  that  the  Pierian  maids, 
Soothing  the  soul  of  man  with  chaste  delight/ 
Taught  Harmony  to  breathe  her  first  enchanting  tale« 

I.  2. 

From  Cephisus's  amber  tide, 

At  the  Cyprian  Queen's  command. 

As  sing  the  Muses,  are  supplied 

To  refresh  the  thirsty  land. 

Fragrant  gales  of  temperate  air ; 

While  around  her  aubjiirn  hair, 

In  a  vivid  chaplet  twin'd 

Never-fading  roses  bloom 
And  scent  the  champaign  with  their  rich  perfume: 
Love  comes  in  unison  with  Wisdom  join'd, 
Each  virtue  thrives  if  Beauty  lend  her  fostering  care. 

n.  1. 

For  its  holy  streams  renown'd 

Can  that  city,  can  that  state 
Where  friendship's  generous  train  are  found 
Shelter  thee  from  public  hate. 
When,  defil'd  with  horrid  guilt. 
Thou  thy  children's  blopd  hast  spilt  i 
Think  on  this  atrocious  deed 
Ere  thy  dagger  aim  the  blow: 
Around  thy  knees  our  suppliant  Arms  we  throw ; 
O  doom  nqt,  doom  them  not  to  bleed. 


<l8r  MEDEA.  ^ 

ir.  fi. 

How  ca;i  thy  relentless  heart 
All  humanity  disclaim. 
Thy  lifted  arm  perform  its  part  ? 
Lost  to  a  sense  of  honest  shame. 
Canst  thou  take  their  lives  away. 
And  these  guiltless  children  slay  i 
Soon  as  thou  thy  Sons  shalt  view. 
How  wilt  thou  the  tear  restrain, 
Or  with  their  blood  thy  ruthless  hands  distain. 
When  prostrate  they  for  mercy  sue? 

.       JASON,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

JASON. 

I  at  your  call  am  come :  for  tho'  such  hale 
To  me  you  bear,  yon  shall  not  be  denied 
In  this  request:  but  let  me  hear  what  else 
You  would  solicit. 

MEDEA. 

Jason,  I  of  thee 
Crave  pardon  for  the  hasty  words  I  spoke : 
Since  just  it  were  that  thou  should'st  bear  toy  wrath. 
When  by  such  mutual  proofs  of  love,  our  union 
Hathvbeen  cemented.     For  I  reasoned  thus. 
And  in  these  terms  reproached  m)rself ;  "  O  wretch, 
*'  Wretch  that  I  am,  what  madness  fires  my  breast? 
*'  Or  why  'gainst  those  who  counsel  me  aright 
*'  Such  fierce  resentment  harbour  ?  what  just  cause 
**  Have  I  to  hate  the  rulers  of  this  land, 
*'  My  Husband  too,  who  acts  but  for  my  good 
In  his  espousals  with  the  royal  maid. 
That  to  my  Sons  he  hence  may  add  a  race 
^^  Of  noble  Brothers  f  shall  not  I  appease 
"  The  tempest  of  my  soul  f  why,  when  the  Gods 
*'  Confer  their  choicest  blessings,  should  I  grieve  ? 
*^  Have  not  I  hjelpless  children?  well  I  know 
''  That  we  are  banish'd  from  Thessalia's  realm 


MEDEA.  <89 

• 

"  And  left  withouf  a  friend.**    When  I  these  thoughts 

Maturely  had  revolv*d,  I  saw  how  great 

My  folly,  and  how  groundless  was  my  wrath. 

Now  therefore  I  commend,  now  deem  thee  wise 

In  forming  this  connection  for  my  sake : 

But  I  was  void  of  wisdom^  or  had  borne 

A  part  in  these  designs>  the  genial  bed 

Obsequiously  attended,  and  with  joy 

Perform'd  each  menial  office  for  the  Bride. 

I  will  not  speak  in  too  reproachful  terms 

Of  my  own  sex  t  but  we,  weak  women,  are 

What  nature  foirm*d  us  :  therefore  our  defects 

Thou  must  not  imitate,  nor  yet  return 

Folly  for  folly.     I  submit  and  own 

My  judgement  was  erroneous,  but  at  length 

Have  I  form'd  better  counsels.     O  my  Sons, 

Come  hither,  leave  the  palace,  from  those  doors 

Advance,  and  in  a  soft  persuasive  strain 

With  me  unite,  your  Father  to  accost. 

Forget  past  enmity,  and  to  your  friends 

Be  reconciled,  for  'twixt  us  is  a  league 

Of  peace  established,  and  my  wrath  subsides. 

The  Sons  of  jason  and  mbdba  enter. 
Take  bold  of  his  right  hand.    Ah  me,  how  great 
Are  my  afflictions  oft  as  I  revolve 
A  deed  of  darkness  in  my  labouring  soul ! 
How  long,  alas !  my  Sons,  are  ye  ordain'd 
To  live^  how  long  to  stretch  forth  those  dear  a.rms  ?  ^ 
Wretch  that  I  am !  how  much  am  I  dispos'd 
To  weep !  how  subject  to  each  fresh  alarm ! 
For  I  at  length  desisting  from  that  strife. 
Which  with  your  Sire  1  rashly  did  maintain, 
Feel  gushing  tears  bedew  my  tender  cheek. 

CHORUS. 

Fresh  tears  too  from  these  eyes  have  forc'd  their  way : 
And  may  no  greater  ill  than  that  which  now 
We  suffer,  overtake  us ! 

VOL.   I.  V 


.A 


299  MEDEA 

JASON. 

I  applaud 

Your  present  conduct,  and  your  former  rtfg^ 
Condemn  not :  for  'tis  nattiral,  that  the  race 
Of  women  should  be  angry,  when  their  Lord 
For  a  new  Consort  trucks  them.     But  your  heart 
Is  for  the  better  cbang'd,  and  you,  tho'  late. 
At  length  acknowledge  the  resistless  power 
Of  reason  ;  this  is  acting  like  a  dame 
Endued  with  prudence.     But  for  you,  my  Son^ 
Abundant  safety  your  considerate  Sire 
Hath  with  the  favor  of  the  Gods  procured. 
For  ye,  I  trust,  shall  with  my  future  race 
Bear  the  first  rank  in  this  Corinthian  realm. 
Advance  to  full  maturity  ;  the  rest, 
Aided  by  each  benignant  God,  your  Father 
Shall  soon  accomplish*    Virtuously  trained  up 
May  1  behold  you  at  a  riper  age 
Obtain  pre-eminence  o'er  those  I  bate. 
But,  ha!  why  with  fresh  tears  do  you  thus  keep 
Those  eye-lids  moist  f  from  your  averted  cheeks 
Why  is  the  colour  fled,  or  why  these  words 
Receive  you  not  with  a  complacent  ear? 

MEDEA. 

Nothing;  my  thoughts  were  busied  for  these  children. 

JASON. 

Be  of  good  courage,  and  for  them  depend 
Oti  my  protecting  care* 

MEDEA. 

I  will  obey. 
Nor  disbelieve  the  promise  thou  hast  made: 
But  woman,  ever  (18)  frail,  is  prone  to  shed 
Involuntary  tears. 

(18  Bninck,  instead  of  ^rjXt/,  reads  -Svu/f,  from  manuscripts,  and  ob- 
sei-ves  that  the  word,^  :.ithcut  reference  to  the  sex,  here  signifies  "weak," 
as  ajffw  frequently  does  '« stronj?,"  which  he  instances  m  their  being  con- 
trasted in  the  Orestes  of  our  Author,  v.  1204, 1205,  edit.  Bamev;  to 


MEDEA.  891 

JASON. 

But  why  bewail 
With  such  deep  groans  these  children  f 

MEDEA. 

Them  I  bore ; 
And  that  our  Sons  might  live,  while  to  the  Gods 
Thou  didst  address  thy  vows,  a  pitying  thought 
Entered  my  soul ;  'twas  whether  this  could  be. 
But  of  th"*  affairs  on  which  thou  com'st  to  hold 
This  conference  with  me,  have  I  told  a  part  ^   ,  ^ 

Already,  and  to  thee  will  now  disclose 
The  sequel :  since  the  rulers  of  this  land 
Resolve  to  banish  me,  as  well  I  know 
That  it  were  best  for  me  to  give  no  unoibrage, 
Or  to  the  ^ing  of  Corinth,  or  to  thee. 
By  dwelling  here  :  because  I  to  this  bouse 
Seem  to  bear  enmity,  from  these  domains 
Will  I  depart:  but  urge  thy  suit  to  Creon, 
That  under  thy  paternal  care  our  Sons 
May  be  train'd  up,  nor  from  this  realm  expell'd. 

JASON 

Tho'  doubtful  of  success,  I  yet  am  bound 
To  make  th*  attempt. 

MEDEA. 

Thou  rather  should'st  enjoin 
Thy  Bride,  hev  royal  Father  to  entreat, 
That  he  these  Children's  exile  may  reverse. 

JASON. 

With  pleasure ;  and  I  doubt  not,  but  on  her. 
If  like  her  sex  humane,  I  shall  prevail. 

MEDEA. 

To  aid  thee  in  this  diflScult  emprise 
Shall  be  my  care,  for  I  to  her  will  send 
Gifts  that  I  know  in  beauty  far  exceed 
The  gorgeous  works  of  man ;  a  tissued  vest 

which  may  be  added  tzrxoKOf  tCtfurfmf  ^nKuf,  **  haSr  weakened  by  fieqiient 
«  combing."  Electra,  ▼.df9. 

U  2 


\- 


29£  MEDEA. 

And  golden  crown,  the  children  shall  present: 

But  with  the  utmost  speed,  these  ornaments 

One  of  thy  menial  train  must  hither  bring : 

For  not  with  one,  but  with  ten  thousand  blessings 

Shall  %he  be  gratified  ;  thee  best  of  men 

Obtaining  for  the  partner  of  her  bed. 

And  in  possession  of  those  splendid  robes 

Which  erst  the  Sun  my  Grandsire  did  bestow 

On  his  descendants :  take  them  in  your  hands,     ^i  s  'V 

My  Children,  to  the  happy  royal  Bride 

Instantly  bear  them,  and  in  dower  bestow. 

For  such  a  gift  as  ought  not  to  be  scornM 

Shall  she  receive. 

JASON. 

Why  rashly  part  with  these f 
Of  tissued  robes  or  gold  can  you  suppose 
The  palace  destitute  i  these  trappings  keep. 
Nor  to  another  give  :  for  if  the  Dame 
On  me  place  real  value,  well  I  know 
My  love  she  to  all  treasures  will  prefer. 

MfiDEA. 

Speak  not  so  hastily :  the  Gods  themselves 
By  gifts  are  sway'd,  as  fame  relates ;  and  go{d\ 
Hath  a  far  greater  influence  o'er  the  souls 
Of  mortals  than  the  most  persuasive  words  : 
With  Fortune,  the  propitious  Heavens  eonspire 
To  add  fresh  glories  to  thy  youthful  Bride, 
All  here  submits  to  her  despotic  sway. 
\  But  I  my  Children's  exile  would  redeem, 
Tho'  at  the  cost  of  life,  not  gold  alone. 
But  these  adjacent  mansions  of  the  King 
Soon  as  ye  enter,  O  ye  little  ones, 
Your  Sire's  new  Consort  and  my  Queen,  entreat. 
That  ye  may  not  be  banish'd  from  this  land : 
At  the  same  time  these  ornaments  present. 
For  most  important  is  it  that  these  gifts 
With  her  own  hands  the  royal  Dame  receive* 


MEDEA.  29s 

Go  forth,  delay  not,  and,  if  ye  succeed, 
Your  Mother  with  the  welcome  tidings  greet. 

lExeunt  jason  and  sons. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

L  1. 
Now  from  my  soul  each  hope  is  fled, 
I  deem  those  hapless  Children  dead, 

They  rush  to  meet  the  wound : 
Mistrustful  of  no  latent  pest 
Th'  exulting  Bride  will  seize  the  gorgeous  vest. 
Her  auburn  tresses  crown'd 
By  baleful  Pluto,  shall  she  stand, 
And  take  the  presents  with  an  eager  hand. 

I.  2. 
The  splendid  robe  of  thousand  dyes 
Will  fascinate  her  raptur'd  eyes. 

And  tempt  her  till  she  wear 
The  golden  diadem,  array'd 
To  meet  her  Bridegroom  in  th'  infernal  shade 
She  thus  into  the  snare 
Of  death  shall  be  surprised  by  fate, 
Nor  scape  remorseless  At^'s  direful  hate. 

II.  I. 
But  as  for  thee  whose  nuptials  bring 
The  proud  alliance  of  a  King, 

'Midst  dangers  unespied 
Thou  madly  rushing,  aid'st  the  blow 
Ordain'd  by  Heaven  to  lay  thy  Children  low, 
And  thy  lamented  Bride : 
O  man,  how  little  dost  thou  know 
That  o'er  tiiy  head  impends  severest  woe ! 
.  II.  t. 

Thy  anguish  I  no  less  bemoan. 
No  less  for  tbee^  O  Mother,  groan. 
Bent  on  ad  hdrti^  deed. 


294  MEDEA. 

Thy  Children  who  resolv'st  to  slay. 
Nor  fear'st  to  take  their  guiltless  lives  away. 
Those  innocents  must  bleed. 

Because,  disdainful  of  thy  charms, 
The  Husband  flies  to  a  new  Consort's  arms. 

ATTENDANT,  SONS,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

ATTENDANT. 

Your  Sons,  my  honoured  Mistress,  are  set  free 
From  banishment;  in  her  own  hands  those  gifts 
With  courtesy  the  royal  Bride  received  ; 
Hence  have  your  Sons  obtained  their  peace. 

MEDEA. 

No  matter. 

ATTENDANT. 

Why  stand  you  in  confusion,  when  befriended 
By  prosperous  Fortune  (19)  ? 

MEDEA. 

Ah! 

ATTENDANT. 

This  harsh  reception 
Accords  not  with  the  tidings  which  I  bring. 

MEDEAl 
Alas!  and  yet  again  I  say,  alas ! 

ATTENDANT. 

Have  I  related  with  unconscious  tongue 
Some  great  calamity,  by  the  fond  hope 
Of  bearing  glad  intelligence,  misled? 

MEDEA. 

For  having  told  what  thou  hast  told,  no  blame 
To  thee  do  I  impute. 

(19)  I  have  here  omitted  two  lines  inserted  in  I|m  teift  9^  ,ibfi  remin- 
der of  the  Attendant's  speech,  they  liaving  been  put  into  the  mouth  of 
Jason,  with  a  very  small  variation,  v.  923  and  924,  of  Barnes's  edition, 
and  are  hence  supposed  by  Yalkenacr  and  Rerson  iA  his  Vedsiniilia,  to 
have  been  here  interpolated  by  the  mere  blonder  d  some  transcribers. 
Dr.  Mnsgrave,  m  a  great  measure,  accedes  to  their  opinion;  and  Brunck 
has  adopted  it  by  leaving  them  out  of  his  edition. 


MEDEA. 


295 


ATTENDANT. 

But  on  the  ground 
Why  fix  those  eyes,  and  shed  abundant  tears? 

MEDEA. 

Jfecessity  constrains  me:  for  the  Gods 
Of  Erebus,  and  I  in  evil  hour. 
Our  baleful  machinations  have  devis'd* 

ATTENDANT 

Be  of  good  cheer ;  for  in  your  children  still 
Are  you  successful. 

MEDEA. 

'Midst  the  realms  of  night 
Others  I  first  will  plung^i.    Ah,  wretched  me!^ 

ATTENDANT. 

Not  you  alone  are  from  your  children  torn. 
Mortal  you  are,  and  therefore  must  endure 
Calamity  with  patience. 

MEDEA. 

I  these  counsels 
Will  practise :  but  go  thou  into  the  palace. 
And  for  the  children  whatsoe'er  to-day 
Is  requisite,  make  ready.  \^Exit  attendant* 

O  my  Sons ! 
My  Sons,  ye  have  a  city  and  a  house 
Where,  leaving  hapless  me  behind,  without 
A  Mother  ye  for  ever  shall  reside- 
But  I  to  other  realms  an  exile  go. 
Ere  any  (20)  help  from  you  I  could  derive. 
Or  see  you  blest;  the  hymeneal  pomp. 
The  bride,  the  genial  couch,  for  you  adorn^ 

(20)  The  word  waa^m,  vMch  tiie  antient  Latin  version,  publisfaed 
under  the  onme  of  Dorotheus  Gamillns,  renders  fteta  am,  (conformably 
to  Hie  mo6t  frequent  interpretation  of  the  verb  omkh,  ^  juvo,"  as  in  Homer*! 
ninth  book  of  the  Iliad,  where,  speaking  of  Prayers,  the  Dauf^ters  of 
Jupiter,  he  says,  nti*  fxr/  wmrm,  **  hmic  valde  juvant,")  is  translated  by 
the  modem  editors  **  capere  voluptatem,*  which  essentially  alters  the 
flense,  and  gives  it  a  torn  which  I  apprehend  to  be  widely  different  from 
Medea's  meaning,  as  she  soon  after  speaks  ui  the  pleasure  iha  receivet 
from  the  darenes  of  her  children* 


«."*. 


!2g6  MEDEA; 

And  in  these  hands  the  kindled  torch  sustain* 
\  How  wretched  am  I  thro'  my  own  perverseness  ! 
You,  O  my  Sons,  I  then  in  vain  have  nurtur'd^ 
In  vain  have  toil'd,  and,  wasted  with  fatigue, 
Suffer'd  the  pregnant  matron  s  grievous  throes. 
On  you,  in  my  afflictions,  many  hopes 
I  founded  erst;  that  ye  with  pious  care 
Would  foster  my  old  age,  and  on  the  bier 
Extend  me  after  death  ;  much  envied  lot 
Of  mortals :  but  these  pleasing  anxious  thoughts 
Are  vanished  now ;  for,  losing  you,  a  life 
Of  bitterness  and  anguish  shall  I  lead^ 
But  as  for  you,  my  Sons,  with  those  dear  eyes 
Fated  no  more  your  Mother  to  behold. 
Hence  are  ye  hastening  to  a  world  unknown. 
Why  do  ye  gaze  on  me  with  such  a  look 
Of  tenderness,  or  wherefore  smile  f  for  these 
Are  your  last  smiles.    Ah  wretched,  wretched  me  ! 
What  shall  1  do?  my  resolution  fails. 
Sparkling  with  joy  now  I  their  looks  have  seen, 
My  friends,  I  can  no  more.    To  those  past  schemes 
I  bid  adieu,  and  with  me  from  this  land 
My  children  will  convey.    Why  should  I  cause 
A  twofold  portion  of  distress  to  fall 
On  my  own  head,  that  I  may  grieve  the  Sire 
By  punishing  his  Sons  ?  this  shall  not  be. 
Such  counsels  I  dismiss.     But  in  my  purpose 
What  means  this  change?  can  I  prefer  derision. 
And  with  impunity  permit  the  foe 
To  'scape  ?  my  utmost  courage  I  must  rouse : 
For  the  suggestion  of  these  tender  thoughts 
Proceeds  from  an  enervate  heart.     My  Sons, 
Enter  the  regal  mansion.  [Exami  sons-* 

As  for  (21)  those 

(£1)  According  to  the  Scholiast,  the  Poet  speaiks  thus  on  account  of 
their  being  Gods,  who  were  considered  as  delighting  in  human  blood,,  as 
the  Fories,  Mars,  and  some  others.  Medea  therefore  warns  those  of  a 
milder  disposition  to  keep  aloof  from  her  purposed  sacrifice  of  her  'ins* 


MEDEA.  901 

Who  deem  that  to  be  present  were  unholy 
While  I  the  destin'd  yictims  offer  up, 
Let  them  see  to  it.    This  uplifted  arm 
Shall  never  shrink.     Alas  !  alas !  my  soul 
Commit  not  such  a  deed.    Unhappy  woman^ 
Desist  and  spare  thy  Children  ;  we  will  live 
Together,  they  in  foreign  realms  shall  cheer 
Thy  exile.— No,  by  those  avenging  Fiends 
Who  dwell  with  Pluto  in  the  realms  beneath. 
This  shall  not  be,  nor  will  I  ever  leave 
My  Sons  to  be  insulted  by  their  foes. 
i\^      They  certainly  must  die ;  since  then  they  must» 
I  bore^  and  I  will  slay  them  :  'tis  a  deed 
Resolv'd  on,  nor  my  purpose  will  I  change* 
Full  well  I  know  that  now  the  royal  Bride 
Wears  on  her  head  the  magic  diadem^ 
And  in  the  variegated  robe  expires : 
'  But  hurried  on  by  fate,  I  tread  a  path 
Of  utter  wretchedness,  and  them  will  plunge 
Into  one  yet  more  wretched.  /To  my  Sons 
Fain  would  I  say  ;  *•'  O  stretciT  forth  your  right  hands^ 
*^  Ye  Children,  for  your  Mother  to  embrace. 
'^  O  dearest  hands,  ye  lips  to  me  most  dear 
*^  Engaging  features,  ^nd  ingenuous  looks^ 
**  May  ye  be  blest,  but  in  another  world ; 
"  For  by  the  treacherous  conduct  of  your  Sire, 
**  Are  ye  bereft  of  all  this  earth  bestow'd. 
^  Farewell,  sweet  kisses  j  tender  limbs,  farewell. 
And  fragrant  breath  !  I  never,  more  can  bear 
To  look  on  you,  my  Children."    My  afflictions 
Have  conquered  me ;  I  now  am  well  aware 
What  crimes  I  venture  on  ;  but  rage,  the  cause 
Of  woes  most  grievous  to  the  human  ra^e. 
Over  my  better  reason  hath  prevail'd.     I 

CHORUS.  ^ 

In  subtle  questions  I  full  many  a  time 
Have  heretofore  eng^d,  and  this  great  point 


•  •     ^"^    fc  •  •>     •■     "  1 

•  »  *  ••■■« 

•  •■  *-  «#        _ 
i. 


298  MEDEA. 

Debated,  (22)  whether  woman  should  extend 

Her  search  into  abstruse  and  hidden  truths. 

But  we  too  have  a  Muse,  who  with  our  sex 

Associates,  to  expound  t!ie  mystic  lore 

Of  wisdom,  tho'  she  dwell  not  with  us  all. 

Yet  haply  a  small  number  may  be  found. 

Among  the  muhitude  of^males,  dear 

To  the  celestial  Muses^I  maintain. 

They  who  In  total  inexperience  live, 

Nor  ever  have  been  Parents,  are  more  happy 

Than  they  to  whom  much  progeny  belongs. 

Because  the  childless,  having  never  tried 

Whether  more  pain  or  pleasure  from  their  of&priDg 

To  mortals  rises,  'scape  un numbered  toils. 

But  I  observe  that  they,  whose  fruitful  house 

Is  with  a  lovely  race  of  infants  fili'd. 

Are  hanass'd  with  perpetual  cares ;  how  first 

To  train  them  up  in  virtue,  and  whence  leave 

Fit  portions  for  their  Sons;  but  on  the  good 

Or  worthless,  whether  they  trfese  toils  bestow 

Remains  involv'd  in  doubt,  yv  I  yet  must  name 

One  evil  the  most  grievous^  to  which  all 

The  human  race  is  subject ;  some  there  are 

Who  for  their  Sons  have  gain'd  sufficient  wealthy 

Seen  them  to  full  maturity  advance. 

And  deck'd  with  every  virtue,  when,  by  Fate 

If  thus  it  be  ordain'd,  comes  Death  unseen 

And  hurries  them  to  Pluto's  gloomy  realm^ 

Can  it  be  any  profit  to  the  Gods 

To  heap  the  loss  of  Children,  that  one  ill 

Than  all  the  rest  more  bitter,  on  mankind  i 

(32)  Both  Dr.  Musgnve  and  Bnmck  have  altered  s,  ^  whether^"  nto 
n,  **  than,**  for  which  the  fonner  cites  as  his  ^thority  only  one  of  the 
Parisian  manuscripts,  admittm^  that  the  others  concur  ¥^ith  Lascaris, 
Aldus,  and  the  rest  of  the  editors  who  preceded  him  in  reading  «:  tiiere 
seems  to  be  no  reason  for  bestowing  the  term  of  '^  optime*  on  this  vaim- 
tion,  which  I  cannot  but  think  detrimental  to  tiie  context,  as  the  Chom 
are  going  on  with  theur  enquiries  into  the  expediency  of  female  learmng. 


MEDEA.  299 

MEDEA. 

My  friends,  with  anxious  expectation  long 
Here  have  I  waited,  fi*om  within  to  learn 
How  fortune  will  dispose  the  dread  event,. 
But  one  of  Jason's  servants  I  behold 
With  breathless  speed  advancing :  his  looks  shew 
That  he  some  recent  mischief  would  relate. 

MESSENGER,  MEDEA,  CHORUS. 

MESSENGER. 

O  thou^   who  impiously  hast  wrought  a  deed 
Of  horror,  fly,  Medea,  from  this  land. 
Fly  with  such  haste  as  not  to  (21)  leave  the  bark. 
Or  from  the  car  alight. 

MEDEA. 

What  crime,  to  merit 
A  banishment  like  this,  have  I  committed  F 

MESSENGER. 

By  thy  enchantments  is  the  royal  maid 
This  instant  dead,  and  Creon  too  her  Sire. 

MEDEA. 

Most  glorious  are  the  tidings  you  relate: 
Henceforth  shall  you  be  number'd  with  my  friends 
And  benefactors. 

MESSENGER. 
Ha!  what  words  are  these? 
Dost  thou  preserve  thy  senses  yet  entire? 
O  womaY),  hath  not  madness  fir'd  thy  brain  ? 
The  wrongs  thou  to  the  royal  house  iiast  done 
Hear'st  thou  with  joy,  nor  shudder'st  at  the  tale? 

MEDEA. 

Somewhat  I  have  in  answer  to  your  speech  : 
But  be  not  too  precipitate,  my  friend ;  '    . 

(33)  The  interpretation  I  have  here  followed  16  t)iat  of  Brundc,  ae. 
corcUng  to  whom  the  Measenger  is  advisipg  Medea  by  no  means  to  bring 
her  ship  to  land,  or  stop  her  chariot,  till  she  is  ssife  from  being  pursued 
and  overtakeo  either  l^  Jason  or  the  inhabitants  of  Coiinth. 


*       J 


.  -      .:'>-'        ••. 


•  ■ 


:«t- 


500  MEDEA. 

Inform  me  how  they  died,  for  twofold  joy 
Wilt  thou  afford,  if  wretchedly  they  perish'd. 

MESSENGER. 

When  with  their  Father  thy  two  Sons  arriv'd 
And  went  into  the  mansion  of  the  Bride, 
We  servants,  who  had  shar'd  thy  griefe,  lejoic'd ; 
For  a  loud  rumour  instantly  prevailed. 
That  all  past  strife  betwixt  thy  Lord  and  thee 
Was  recoQcil'd.    Some  kiss'd  the  Children's  hands^ 
And  some  their  auburn  tresses.     I  with  joy 
To  those  apartments  where  the  women  dwell 
Attended  them.     Our  Mistress,  the  new  object 
OF  homage  such  as  erst  to  thee  was  paid. 
Ere  she  beheld  thy  Sons,  on  Jason  cast 
A  look  of  fond  desire :  but  then  she  veil'd 
Her  eyes,  and  turn'd  her  pallid  cheeks  away 
Disgusted  at  their  coming,   till  his  voice 
Appeas*d  her  anger  with  these  gentle  words; 
'*  O  be  not  thou  inveterate  'gainst  thy  friends. 

But  lay  aside  disdain,  thy  beauteous  face 

Turn  hither,  and  let  amity  for  those 
*'  Thy  Husband  loves  still  warm  that  generous  breast. 

Accept  these  gifts,  and  to  thy  Father  sue. 

That,  for  my  sake,  the  exile  of  my  Sons 
''  He  will  lemit"    Soon  as  the  Princess  saw 
Thy  glitttf-nng  ornaments,  she  could  resist 
No  longer,  b<it  to  all  her  Lord's  requests 
Assented,  and  before  thy  Sons  were  gone 
Far  from  the  regal  mansion  with  their  Sire 
The  vest  resplendent  with  a  thousand  dyes 
Put  on,  and  o'er  her  loosely  floating  hair 
Placing  the  golden  crown,  before  the  mirror 
Her  tresses  braided,  and  with  smiles  8urvey*d 
Th'  inanimated  semblance  of  her  charms: 
Then  rising  from  her  seat  across  the  palace 
Walked  with  a  delicate  and  graceful  step. 
In  the  rich  gifts  exulting,  and  oft  turn'd 


€€ 


MEDEA.        p  901 

JSnraptur'd  eyes  on  her  oyirn  stately  neck 

Reflected  to  her  view  :   but  now  a  scene 

Of  horror  followed ;  her  complexion  changed. 

And  she  reei'd  backward^  trembling  every  limb ; 

Scarce  did  her  chair  receive  her  as  she  sunk 

In  time  to  save  her  falling  to  the  ground. 

One  of  her  menial  train,  an  ag^d  dame, 

Possest  with  an  idea  that  the  wrath 

Either  of  Pan  or  of  some  God  unknown 

Her  mistress  had  invaded,  in  shrill  tone 

Pour'd  forth  a  vow  to  Heaven,  till  from  her  mouth 

She  saw  foam  issue,  in  their  sockets  roll 

Her  wildly  glaring  eye-balls,  and  the  blood 

Leave  her  whole  frame;  a  shriek  that  differed  far 

From  her  first  plaints,  then  gave  she.    In  an  instant 

Tbis  to  her  Father's  house,  and  that  to  tell 

The  Bridegroom  the  mischance  which  had  befallen 

His  Consort,  rush'd  impetuous ;  thro'  the  dome 

The  frequent  steps  of  those  who  to  and  fro 

Ran' in  confusion  did  resound.     But  soon 

As  the  fleet  courser  at  the  goal  arrives. 

She  who  was  silent,  and  had  clos'd  her  eyes, 

Rous'd  from  her  swoon,  and  burst  forthiinto  groans 

Most  dreadful,  for  *gainst  her  two  evils  warr'd  : 

Plac'd  on  her  head  the  golden  crown  pour'd  forth 

A  wondrous  torrent  of  devouring  flames, 

And  the  embroider'd  robes,  thy  Children's  gifts, 

Prey'd  on  the  hapless  virgin's  tender  flesh ; 

Cover'd  with  fire  she  started  from  her  seat 

Shaking  her  hair,  and  from  her  head  the  crown 

With  violence  attempting  to  remove. 

But  still  more  firmly  did  the  heated  gold 

Adhere,  and  thefann'd  blaze  with  double  lustre 

Burst  forth  asshe  her  streaming  tresses  shook : 

Subdued  by  fate,  at  length  she  to  the  ground 

Fell  prostrate :   scarce  could  any  one  have  known  her*      /^ 

Except  her  Father;  for  those  radiant  eyes  ^ /^  ▼ 


S02  MEDEA. 

Dropp'd  from  their  sockets,  that  majestic  face 

Its  wonted  features  lost,  and  blood  with  fire 

Ran  down  her  head  in  intermingled  streams, 

While  from  her  bones  the  flesh,  like  weeping  pitch. 

Melted  away,  thro'  the  consuming  power 

Of  those  unseen  enchantments;  'twas  a  sight 

Most  horrible  :  all  fear'd  to  touch  the  corse. 

For  her  disastrous  end  had  taught  us  caution. 

Meanwhile  her  hapless  Sire,  who  knew  not  aught 

Of  this  calamity,  as  he  with  haste 

Entered  the  palace,  stumbled  o'er  her  body; 

Instantly  shrieking  out,  then  with  his  arms 

Infolded,  kiss'd  it  oft,  and,  **  O  my  child, 

"  My  wretched  child,"  exclaim'd;  ^'  what  envious  God, 

'^  Author  of  thy  dishonourable  fall, 

'*  Of  thee  bereaves  an  old  decrepid  man 

^^  Whom  the  grave  claims  ?  with  thee  I  wish  to  die, 

'^  My  Daughter/*    Scarcely  had  the  hoary  Father 

These  lamentations  ended;   to  uplift 

His  feeble  body  striving,  he  adher'd 

(As  ivy  with  its  pliant  tendrils  clings 

Around  the  laurel)  to  the  tissued  vest. 

Dire  was  the  conflict ;  he  to  raise  his  knee 

From  earth  attempted,  but  his  Daughter's  corse 

Still  held  him  down,  or  if  with  greater  force 

He  dragg'd  it  onward,  from  his  bones  he  tore 

The  aged  flesh  :  at  length  he  sunk,  and  breath'd 

In  agonizing  pangs  his  soul  away : 

For  he  against  such  evil  could  bear  up 

No  longer.     To  each  other  close  in  death 

The  Daughter  and  her  Father  lie :   their  fate 

Demands  our  tears.     Warn'd  by  my  words,  with  haste 

From  this  domain  ccnvey  thyself,  or  vengeance 

Will  overtake  thee  for  this  impious  deed. 

Not  now  for  the  first  time  do  I  esteem 

Human  affairs  a  shadow  :  without  fear 

Can  I  pronounce,   they  who  appear  endued 


M£DEA.  303 

With  wisdom^  and  most  plausibly  trick  out 
Specious  harangues^  deserve  to  be»accounted 
The  worst  of  fools.     The  man  completely  blest 
Exists  not.     Some  in  overflowing  wealth 
May  be  more  fortunate,  but' none  are  happy. 

CHORUS. 

I^eaven  its  collected  store  of  evils  seems 
This  day  resoIv*d  With  /ostice  to  pour  down    - 
On  perjured  Jason.     Thy  untimely  fate 
;  How  do  we  pity,  O  thou  wretched  Daughter 
■  Of  Creon,  who  in  Pluto's  mansions  go'st 
\  To  celebrate  thy  nuptial  feast. 

MEDEA. 

My  friends, 
I  am  resoly'd,  as  soon  as  I  have  slain 
My  Children,  from  thesTe  regions  to  depart. 
Nor  thro'  inglorious  sloth  will  I  abandon 
My  Sons  to  perish  by  detested  hands; 
(24)  They  certainly  must  die  :  since  then  they  must, 
I  bore  and  I  will  slay  them.     O  mj'  heart ! 
Be  arm'd  with  tenfold  firmness.    What  avails  it 
To  loiter,  when  inevitable  ills 
Remain  to  be  acjcomplish'd  P  take  the  sword. 
And,  O  my  band,  on  to  the  goal  that  ends 
Their  life,  nor  let  one  intervening  thought 
Of  pity  or  maternal  tenderness 
Suspend  thy  purpose  :  for  this  one  short  day 
Forget  how  fondly  thou  didst  love  thy  Sons^ 
How  bring  them  forth,  and  after  that  lament 
Their  cruel  fate  :   altho'  thou  ait  resolv'd 
To  slay,  yet  hast  thou  ever  held  them  dear. 
But  I  am  of  all  women  the  most  wretched. 

[Exit  MIIDEA. 
(24)  The  repetition  of  the  two  verses,  6»vvfet   w^o^t-^ 

which  have  already  occurred  in  a  fbrmer  speech  of  Medea,  i»  noticed 


504  MEDEA. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

U 

(25)  Earth,  and  thou  Sun,  whose  fervid  blaze 
From  pole  to  pole  illumes  each  distant  land. 
View  this  abandoned  woman,  ere  she  raise 
Against  her  Children's  lives  a  ruthless  hand ; ' 

For  from  thy  race,  divinely  bright,. 
They  spring,  and  should  the  sons  of  Gods  be  slain 

By  man,  'twere  dreadful.     O  restrain 
Her  fury,  thou  celestial  source  of  light,  ^ 

Ere  she  with  blood  pollute  your  regal  dome, 
Chas'd  by  the  Demons  hence  let  this  Erinnys  roam* 

H. 

The  pi'egnant  matron's  throes  in  vain 
Hast  thou  endur'd,  and  borne  a  lovely  race, 
O  thou,  who  o'er  th*  inhospitable  main  • 
Where  the  Cyanean  rocks  scarce  leave -a  space. 

Thy  daring  voyage  didst  pursue* 
Why,  O  thou  wretch,  thy  soul  doth  anger  rend. 

Such  as  in  murder  soon  must  end  ? 
They  who  with  kindred  gore  are  stain'd,  shall  rue 
Their  guilt  inexpiable :  full  well  I  know 
The  Gods  will  on  this  house  inflict  severest  woe. 

both  by  Barnes  and  Carmelli,  who  do  not  propose  the  removal  of  tfaam 
from  either  place :  and  I  am  induced  to  consider  them  as  my  nfest 
guides,  later  critics  being  pretty  equally  divided  in  their  opinions,  fbr 
Pierson  and  Dr.  Mnsgrave  would  take  them  away  at  v«  1063,  and  Vaike- 
naer  and  Brunck  object  to  them  here. 

(25)  *'  When  the  Chorus  saw  that  Medea  (absolutely  determined  on 
**  slaying  her  Children)  rush'd  forth  to  perpetrate  her  intention,  and  that 
^  it  would  be  impracticable  for  them  to  prevent  her  laying  violent  hands 
^  on  them,  which  could  be  effected  only  by  the  interposition  of  Heaven, 
^  they  address'  their  prayers  to  the  Gods,  imploring  them  to  hinder  so 
**  execrable  a  crime :  the  Sun  they  invoke  as  the  ancestor  of  Medea,  and 
'^  because  nothing  escapes  his  notice;  and  Earth,  because  it  is  on 
<<  the  point  of  bemg  polluted  with  the  |bk>od  of  the  Cbildren."    ScBO- 

tXlST. 


MEDEA.  S05 

'  1st  SON  (wUkht.)  , 

(26)  Ah  me !  what  can  I  do,  ur  whither  fly 
To  scape  a  Mother's  arm  ? 

2d  SON  Ct^hm.) 

I  cannot  tell : 
For,  O  my  dearest  Brother,  we  are  lost. 

CHORUS. 

Heard  you  the  Children's  shrieks?  I  (O  thou  Dame 
Whom  woes  and  evil  fortune  still  attend) 
Will  rush  into  the  regal  dome,  from  death 
Resblv'd  to  snatch  thy  Sons, 

I8t  SON  (wUhin.) 

We  by  the  Gods 
Conjure  you  to  protect  us  in  this  hour 
Of  utmost  peril,  for  the  treacherous  snare 
Hath  caught  us,  and  we  perish  by  the  sword. 

CHORUS. 

Art  thou  a  rock,  O  wretch,  or  steel,  to  slay 
With  thine  own  hand  that  generous  race  of  Sons 
Whom  thou  didst  bear  ?  I  hitherto  have  hes^rd 
But  of  one  woman,  who  in  antient  days 
Smote  her  dear  Children,  (27)  I  no,  by  the  Gods 
With  frenzy  stung,  when  Jove's  malignant  Queen 
Distracted  from  her  mansion  drove  her  forth. 

(26)  Pausanias  and  ApoUodorus  inform  us,  that  the  namAf  tliese  two 
Sons  of  Jason  and  Medea  wer^  Mermenis  and  pheres, 

(27)  The  reader  will  find  among  the  fragments  of  our  Author  several 
valuable  remains  of  the  Tragedy  entitled  Ino,  and  from  that  of  the  Bac- 
chanalians may  collect  that  Ino  was  one  of  Uie  Dau^ters  of  Cadmus,  and 
partook  with  her  Sisters  Agave  and  Autonoe  in  their  orgies  on  Moant 
CithaBron  and  the  murder  of  Pentheus ;  the  subsequent  accounts  given 
of  her  by  ApoUodorus  and  Ovid,  which  somevdmt  vary  from  this  of 
Euripides,  are,  that  hottk  she  and  her  husband  Athamas  were  seized  vrith 
a  frenzy  inflicted  by  Juno,  under  the  influence  of  winch  Athamas  taking 
bis  elder  Son  Learchus  for  a  wild  beast,  da^i'd  him  against  a  wall,  and 
Ino  threw  herself,  vrith  Melicerta  he^.  younger  Son,  from  a  rock  into  the 
ocean,  where  they  became  Sea  Gods;  she  by  the  name  of  Leucottieay 
and  he  by  that  of  Palaemon,  as  Euripides  also  mentions  in  his  Iphigenia 
in  Tauris,  v.  270,  271.  ed.  Barnes, 

VOL.  I.  X 


^ 


306  MEDEA. 

But  she,  yet  recking  with  the  impious  gore 

Of  her  own  progeny,  into  the  waves 

Phmg'd  headlong  from  the  ocean's  craggy  beach. 

And  shar'd  with  her  two  Sons  one  common  fate. 

Can  there  be  deeds  more  horrible  than  these 

Left  for  succeeding  ages  to  produce  ? 

Disastrous  union  with  the  female  sex. 

How  great  a  source  of  woes  art  thou  to  man ! 

JASON,  CHORUS. 

JASON. 

Ye  Dames  who  near  the  portals  stand ;  is  she 
Who  hath  committed  these  atrocious  crimes, 
Medea,  in  the  palace,  or  by  flight 
Hath  she  retreated  ?  for  beneath  the  ground 
Must  she  conceal  herself,  or  borne  on  wings 
Ascend  the  heights  of  Ether,  to  avoid 
The  vengeance  due  for  Corinth's  royal  house. 
Having  destroyed  the  rulers  of  the  land. 
Can  she  presume  she  shall  escape  unhurt 
From  these  abodes?  but  less  am  I  concein'd 
On  her  account,  than  for  my  sons:  since  they 
Whom  she  hath  injur'd,  will  on  her  inflict 
Due  punishment :  but  hither  am  I  come 
To  save  my  Children's  lives,  lest  on  their  heads 
The  noble  Creon*s  kindred  should  retaliate 
That  impious  murder  by  their  Mother  wrought. 

CHORUS. 
'     Thou  kBow'st  not  yet,  O  thou  unhappy  man. 
What  ills  thou  art  involved  in,  or  these  words 
Had  JDOt  escap'd  thee. 

JASON. 

Ha,  what  ills  are  these 
Thou  speak'at  of?  Would  she  also  murder  me  ? 

CHORUS. 

By  their  own  Mother's  hand  thy  Sons  are  slain. 

JASON. 

What  can  you  mean  ?  how  utterly,  O  Woman, 


MEDEA.  S07 

Have  you  undone  me !  *  . 

CHORUS. 

Be  assur'd  tby  Children 
Are  now  no  more. 

JASON. 

Where  was  it,  or  within 
Those  mansions  or  without,  that  she  destroyed 
Our  progeny  ? 

CHORUS. 

As  soon  as  thou  these  doors 
Hast  opM,  their  weltering  corses  wilt  thou  view. 

JASON. 

Loose  the  firm  bars  and  bolts  of  yonder  gates 
With  speed,  ye  servants,  that  I  may  behold 
This  scene  of  twofold  misery,  the  remains 
Of  the  deceased,  and  punish  her  who  slew  them. 

MEDEA,   IN  A  CHABIOT    DRAWN    BY    BRAOUNS, 

JASON,  CHORUS. 

MEDEA. 
With  levers,  wherefore  dost  thou  shake  those  doors 
In  quest  of  them  who  are  no  more,  and  me 
Who  dar'd  to  perpetrate  the  bloody  deed  i 
Desist  from  such  unprofitable  toil : 
But  if  there  yet  be  aught  that  thou  with  me 
Canst  want,  speak  freely  whatsoe'er  thou  wilt : 
For  with  that  hand  me  never  shalt  thou  reach. 
Such  steeds  the  Sun  my  Grandsire  gives,  to  whirl 
This  cbariot^  and  protect  me  from  ray  foes. 

JASON. 
O  most  abandoned  Woman,  by  the  God«, 
By  me  and  all  the  human  race  abhorred. 
Who  with  the  sword  could  pierce  the  Sons  you  bore. 
And  ruin  me  a  childless  wretched  man. 
Yet  after  you  this  impious  deed  have  dar'd 
To  perpetrate,  still  view  the  radiant  Sun 
And  fostering  Earth  ;  may  vengeance  overtake  you ! 

X  2 


St»  MEDEA. 

For  I  that  reason  have  regain'd  which  erst 

Forsook  me,  when  to  the  abodes  of  Greece 

I  from  your  home,  from  a  Barbarian  realm 

Convey'd  you,  to  your  Sire  a  grievous  bane^ 

And  the  cornipt  betrayer  of  that  land 

Which  nurtur'd  you.     Some  envious  God  first  rous*cI 

Your  evil  genius  from  the  shades  of  hell 

For  my  undoing :  after  you  had  slain 

Your  Brother  at  the  (28)  altar,  you  embark'd 

In  the  fam*d  Argo,     Deeds  like  these  a  life 

Of  guilt  commenc'd;  with  me  in  wedlock  join'd. 

You  bore  those  Sons,  whom  you  have  now  destroy 'd 

Because  I  left  your  bed.     No  Grecian  dame 

Woul'd  e'er  have  ventured  on  a  deed  so  impious  ; 

Yet  I  to  them  preferred  you  for  my  Bride  : 

This  was  an  hostile  union,   and  to  me 

The  most  destructive;   for  my  arms  received 

No  woman,  but  a  lioness  more  fell 

Than  Tuscan' Scy  11a.     Vainly  should  I  strive 

To  wound  you  with  reproaches  numberless. 

For  you  are  grown  insensible  of  shame  ! 

Vile  sorceress,  and  polluted  with  tbe  blood 

Of  your  own  Children,  perish:  my  hard  fate. 

While  I  lament,  for  I  shall  ne'er  enjoy 

My  lovely  Bride,  nor  with  those  Sons  who  owe 

To  me  their  birth  and  nurture,  ever  hold 

Sweet  converse  :  they,  alas^  can  live  no  more. 

Utterly  lost  to  their  desponding  Sire. 

MEDEA. 
Much  could  I  say  in  answer  to  this  charge, 

(28)  The  expression  nopirtay,  \vtuch  Barnes  and  some  of  the  older  ver- 
sions translate  quocum  simul  edacata  es,  is  in  the  notes  of  Carmelli,  and 
by  t)r.  Musgrave,  rendered,  juxta  focum,  conformably  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  the  Scholiast,  who  refers  us  to  Apolloraus  Rbodiiis,  in  whose 
Argonautics,  L.  4,  v.  470,  &c.  we  meet  with  the  account  of  Absyrtes^ 
the  Brother  of  Medea,  being  murdered  by  Jason  in  the  presence  of  his 
Sister,  before  the  altar  of  Diana  :  the  poet  says,  that  Medea  veil'd  her 
face,  but  Erinnys  was  a  spectator  of  the  horrid  deed.  - 


MEDEA.  309 

Were  not  the  benefits  from  me  received, 
And  thy  abhorr'd  ingratitude,  well  known 
To  Jove,  dread  Sire.     Yet  was  it  not  ordain'd. 
Scorning  my  bed,  that  thou  should'st  lead  a  life 
Of  fond  delight,  and  ridicule  my  griefs ; 
Nor  that  the  royal  virgin  thou  didst  wed. 
Or  Creon,  who  to  thee  his  Daughter  gave. 
Should  drive  me  from  these  regions  unaveng'd. 
A  lioness  then  call  me  if  thou  wilt, 
X)r  by  the  name  of  Scylla,  whose  abode 
Was  in  Etrurian  caverns.     For  thy  heart. 
As  justice  prompted,  in  my  turn  I  wounded. 

JASON. 

You  grieve,  and  are  the  partner  of  my  woes. 

MEDEA. 
Be  well  assured  I  am :  but  what  assuages 
My  grief  is  this,  that  thou  no  more  canst  scoff. 

JASON. 

How  vile  a  Mother,  O  my  Sons,  was  yours ! 

MEDEA. 

How  did  ye  perish  thro'  your  Father's  lust ! 

JASON. 

But  my  right  hand  was  guiltless  of  their  death. 

MEDEA. 

Not  so  thy  cruel  taunts,  and  that  new  marriage., 

JASON. 

Was  my  new  marriage  a  sufficient  cause 

For  thee  to  murder  them  ? 

MEDEA. 

Canst  thou  suppose 

Such  wrongs  sit  light  upon  the  female  breast  f 

JASON. 

jOn  a  chaste  woman's ;  but  your  soul  abounds 
With  wickedness. 

MEDEA. 

Thy  sons  are  now  no  more. 
This  will  a£aict  thee. 


L 


510  MEDEA. 

JASON. 

O'er  your  head^  alas ! 
They  now  two  evil  Geniuses  impend. 

MEDEA. 

The  Gods  know  who  these  ruthless  deeds  began. 

JASON. 

They  know  the  hateful  temper  of  your  soul. 

MEDEA. 

In  detestation  thee  I  holdj  and  loathe 
Thy  conversation. 

JASON. 
Yours  too  I  abhor ; 

But  we  with  ease  may  settle  on  what  terms 
To  part  for  ever. 

MEDEA, 
l^ame  those  terms.    Say  how 

Shall  I  proceed  i  for  such  my  ardent  wish. 

JASON. 

Let  me  inter  the  dead^  and  o'er  them  weep. 

MEDEA. 

Thou  shalt  not :  for  their  corses  with  this  hand 
Am  I  resolv'd  to  bury,  in  the  grove 
Sacred  to  aweful  Juno,  who  protects 
The  citadel  of  Corinth,  lest  their  foes 
Insult  them,  and  with  impious  rage  pluck  up 
The  monumental  stone.    I  in  this  realm 
Of  Sisyphus  moreover  w^l  ordain, 
A  solemn  festival  and  mystic  rites> 
To  make  a  due  atonement  for  my  guilt. 
In  having  slain  them.    To  Erectheus'  land 
I  now  am.on  my  road,  where  I  shall  dwell 
With  JEgeus,  great  Pandion's  Son :  but  thou 
Shalt  vilely  perish  as  thy  crimes  deserve. 
Beneath  the  shattered  relics  of  thy  bark 
(29)  The  Argo,  crushed ;  such  is  the  bitter  end 

(29)  Varions  are  the  accounte  ghren  of  Jason's  death.    The  Scholiast 
on  this  passage  says,  that  ^  through  the  wnUh  or  owmmmd  of  MfldJea, 


MEDEA.,  Sll 

Of  oiir  espousals,  and  thy  faith  betray *(]. 

JASON. 

May  the  Erinnys  of  our  8laus:hter'd  Sons, 
And  Justice,  who  requite;)  each  murderous  deed. 
Destroy  you  utterly ! 

MEDEA. 

Will  any  God 
Or  Demon  hear  thy  curses,  O  thou  wretch, 
False  to  thy  oath,  and  to  the  sacred  laws 
Of  hospitality  ? 

JA80N. 

Most  impious  woman, 
Those  hands  yet  reeking  with  your  Children's  gore  — 

*^  Jziion  sleeping  beneath  the  prow  of  the  ship  Ariico,  perished  by  its  fkllhig 
**  upon  him."  But  Diodonis  Sienlm,  after  having  related  the  deaths  of 
Creon,  and  Glance  his  Daughter,  in  much  the  same  manner  with  our  au> 
tfaor,  gives  an  account  of  what  passed  afterwards,  in  several  respects  to- 
tally irreconcileable  with  Euripides ;  *<  Jason  had  three  Sons  by  Medea, 
^  Thessahis,  Alcimenes,  and  Tissander ;  tiie  first  of  them  escaped  his 
''  mother's  fury ;  but  the  two  latter  were  skin  by  her  bands,  and  buried 
"  by  her  in  the  temple  of  Juno :  after  committing  these  murders,  Medea 
**  fled  for  refuge  to  Hercules,  who  had  been  witness  of  Jason's  plighting 
^  his  troth  to  her  at  Colchos,  but  finding  him  in  a  state  incapable  of  af> 
**  fordiag  her  any  protection,  she  went  fVom  Thebes  to  Athem,  where 
''  fibe  married  .^eus,  but  being  driven  from  thence  by  Theseus,  that 
^  king's  son  by  a  former  wife,  she  found  another  royal  Husband,  whose 
^  name  is  not  mentioned,  in  Asia,  and  bore  him  a  Son  called  Medns, 
*^  from  whom  the  nation  called  the  Medes  derive  tlieir  name.  Jasoti, 
^  bereit,'  by  Medea*s  vengeance,  of  his  Children,  and  of  his  Bride  the 
''  Corinthian  Princess,  was  universally  thought  to  have  suffered  accord' 
'^  ing  to  his  deserts ;  and  therefore  being  unable  any  longer  to  bear  vf 
''  under  the  weight  of  such  accumulated  misfortunes,  put  nn  end  to  hii 
*'  own  life."  But  upon  examining  Dr.  Blar's  Chronological  Tables,  I 
am  rather  mduced  to  think  with  Euripides,  that  these  events  were  prior 
to  the  birtiu  either  of  Theseiu  or  Hercules.  By  the  verses  of  Neophron, 
cited  m  the  chapter  of  Nic.  Loensis  on  t^;.is  subject,  referred  to  by 
Barnes,  which  is  to  be  met  with  in  the  Lampa^,  or  Fax  arfium  of  Grtf- 
ter,  SnppL  T  5.  p.  430,  we  are  given  to  understand  that  Jason  perisheA 
in  a  manner  very  unworthy  of  the  Hero,  by  hanging  himself.  Exitu  dir6 
temerata  ponti  jura  piavit,  vdll  however,  in  every  point  of  view,  becomt 
applicable  to  him,  equally  at  least  with  the  rest  of  his  Comrades  enume* 
rated  by  Seneca  ha  that  very  animated  Odt  which  doses  his  third  act  tf 
Medea. 


512  MEDEA. 

MEDEA. 

Go  to  the  palace^  and  inter  thy  Bride. 

JASON. 
Bereft  of  both  my  Sons,  I  thither  go. 

MEDEA. 

Not  yet  enough  lament'st  thou  :  to  encrease 
Thy  sorrows,  may'st  thou  live  till  thou  art  old!     ^ 

JASON. 

Ye  dearest  Children. 

MEDEA. 

To  their  Mother  dear. 
But  not  to  thee* 

JASON. 

'  Yet  them  have  you  destroyed- 

MEDEA. 
That  I  might  punish  thee: 

JASON. 

One  more  fond  kiss 

On  their  lov'd  lips,  ah  me,  would  I  imprint. 

MEDEA. 

Now  would 'st  thou  speak  to  them,  and  in  thine  arms 
Clasp  those  whom  living  thou  didst  banish  hence. 

JASON. 

Allow  me,  I  conjure  you  by  the  Gods, 
My  Children's  tender  bodies  to  embrace. 

MEDEA. 

Thou  shalt  not:  these  presumptuous  words  in  vain 
By  thee  were  hazarded. 

JASON. 

Jove,  h ear's t  thou  this. 
How  I  with  scorn  am  driven  away,  how  wrong'd 
By  that  detested  lioness,  whose  fangs 
Have  slain  her  Children  ?  yet  shall  my  loud  plaints. 
While  here  I  fix  my  seat,  if  'tis  allow'd. 
And  this  be  possible,  call  down  the  Gods 
To  witness  that  you  hinder  me  from  touching 
My  murder'd  Sons,  and  paying  the  deceased 


MEDEA.  S\3 

Funereal  honors ;  would  to  Heaven  I  ne'er 
Had  seen  them  born  to  perish  by  your  hand ! 

CHORUS. 

Thron'd  on  Olympus,  with  his  sovereign  nod, 
Jove  unexpectedly  performs  the  schemes 
Divine  foreknowledge  plann'd ;  our  firmest  hopes 
Oft  fail  US'!  but  the  God  still  finds  the  means  (30) 
Of  compassing  what  man  could  ne'er  have  look*d  for; 
And  thus  doth  this  important  business  end. 

(30)  Fata  viam  invenient  aderitq;  vocatos  Apollo. 

Virgil  JEn.  L.  5.  v.  595. 


*'^^^--    --■^•-  '-' 


^. 


HIPPOLYTUS. 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA. 


VENUS. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

ATTENDANTS  OF  fflPPOLYTUS. 

OFFICER  BELONGING  TO  THE  PALACE. 

CHORUS  OF  TRCEZENUN  BAMES. 

KURSE. 

PHiEDRA. 

THESEUS. 

MESSENGERS. 

DIANA. 

SCENE— BEFORE  PITTHEUS'  PALACE  AT  TRCEZEN& 


HIPPOLYTUS. 

VENUS. 

IVlY  empire  Man  confesses,  and  the  name 
Of  Venus  echoes  thro'  Heaven's  wide  expanse. 
Among  all  those  who  on  the  distant  coast 
OF  ocean  dwell,  and  earth's  remotest  bounds 
Old  Atlas'  station  who  upholds  the  skies. 
Beholding  the  resplendent  solar  beams ; 
On  them  who  to  my  power  due  homage  pay 
Great  honours  I  bestow,   and  to  the  dust 
Humble  each  proud  contemner.     E'en  the  race 
Of  happy  Deities  with  pleasure  view  '. 
The  reverence  mortals  yield  them,  f  Of  these  words 
Ere  long  will  I  display  the  truth  :    that  Son 
Of  Theseus  and  the  (I)  Amazonian  Dame, 
Hippolytus,  by  holy  Pittheus  taught, 
E'en  he  alone  among  all  those  who  dwell 
Here  in  Trcezen^,  of  th*  immortal  Powers 
Styles  me  the  weakest,  loathes  the  genial  bed, 

(1)  Plutarch  says  the  name  of  the  Amazonian  captiTe  whom  Theseus 
snarried,  was,  according  to  some,  Antiope,  and,  according  to  others, 
Hippolyta.  In  Petit.  Leg.  Att  1.  6.  tit.  1.  the  reader  will  find  a  discus- 
sion of  that  law  which  enjomed  the  Athenians  to  take  to  Wife  a  citisen, 
which  appears  to  have  undergone  several  fluctuations,  and  sometimes  to 
have  been  enforced  with  more,  and  sometimes  with  less,  strictness:  nor 
can  we  wonder  if  the  children  of  Phaedra,  who  was  the  Daughter  of  Mi* 
nos  king  of  Crete,  and  married  to  their  Sovereign,  were  legitimated  by 
the  people  of  Athens,  while  the  Son  of  the  captive  Amazon,  espedaOy 
after  the  death  of  his  Mother,  and  second  nuirriage  of  his  Father,  foaad 
the  law  made  use  of  against  him,  in  order  to  bar  his  succeeding  to  tlM 
throne :  but  his  exclusion  is  represented  by  tlie  Nurse,  v.  305,  as  depend- 
ing  on  Phsedra*6  life.  In  the  coune  of  this  Tragedy,  Theseus,  v.  962, 
and  Hippolytus  himself,  v.  1083,  lay  a  great  stress  on  the  word  voAoc^ 
which  signifies  one  *<  of  spurious  birtli.**  I  thought  this  explanation  th« 
more  requisite,  as  Carmelli,  in  his  notes,  says  be  does  not  see  why  the 
Poet  calls  Hippolytus  vodo;,  and  supposes  him  to  mean  nothing  more  than 
that  Phardra  was  his  Mother-in-law. 


S18  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Nor  to  the  sacred  nuptial  yoke  will  bow : 

Apollo's  Sister  Dian  sprung  from  Jove 

He  worships,  her  the  greatest  he  esteems 

Of  all  the  Gods,  and  ever  in  her  groves 

A  favoured  comrade  of  the  virgin  dwells, 

With  his  swift  hounds  the  flying  beasts  of  prey 

Expelling  from  their  haunts,  and  aims  at  more 

Than  human  nature  reaches:  him  in  this 

I  envy  not:  why  should  I  ?  yet  shall  vengeance 

This  day  overtake  the  miscreant :   I  have  forged 

Each  implement  already,  and  there  needs 

But  little  labour  to  effect  his  doom. 

For  erst  on  his  arrival  from  the  house 

Of  Pittheus,  in  Pandion's  land,  to  view 

The  mystic  rites,  and  in  those  mystic  rites 

To  be  initiated;  his  Father's  Wife 

Illustrious  Phaedra  saw  the  Prince,  her  heart,    . 

At  my  behest,  love's  dire  contagion  seiz'd : 

And  ere  she  came  to  this  Troezenian  coast. 

She,  where  Minerva's  rock  oerlooks  thisland^ 

To  Venus  rear'd  a  temple,  for  the  youth 

Who  in  a  foreign  region  dwelt,  engrossed 

By  amorous  frenzy,  and  to  future  times 

Resolv'd  this  lasting  monumental  pile 

Of  her  unhappy  passion  to  bequeath. 

But  from  Cecropia's  realm  since  Theseus  fled 

To  expiate  his  pollution,  with  the  blood 

Of  (Q)  Pallas*  Sons  distain'd,  and  with  his  Queen 

Sail'd  for  this  coast,  to  voluntary  exile 

Submitting  for  one  year,  the  wretched  Phaedra 

Groaning  and  deeply  smitten  by  the  stings 

Of  love  bath  pin'd  in  silence,  nor  perceives 

(S)  ^  Ninn,  Pallas,  and  JEgew,  were  the  lliree  Sons  <^  PandioD; 
**  Nians  dwelt  at  Megara;  but  JSgeus  and  Pallas  ruled  over  some  de^ 
**  tadied  tiibes;  Attica  not  being  yet  collected  into  one  state.  It  is 
^  said  tiu^  Tbcteas  killed  one  of  his  first  cousins  the  Soaaof  FaOas,  yd»o 
^  was  bis  competitor  for  the  kingdom.'*    Scholiast. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  319 

One  of  her  menial  tnun,  whence  this  disease 

Invaded  her.     Yet  of  its  full  effect 

Must  not  her  amorous  malady  thus  fail: 

For  [  to  Theseus  am  resolv'd  to  shew 

The  truth,  no  longer  shall  it  rest  conceal'd: 

Then  will  the  Father  with  his  curses  slay 

(3)  My  youthful  foe:  for  the  reward  on  Theseus 

Conferred  by  Neptune  ruler  of  the  waves 

Was  this;  that  thrice  he  to  that  God  might  sue 

For  any  gift,  nor  should  he  sue  in  vain* 

Phaedra  is  noble,  yet  she  too  shall  perish. 

For  I  of  such  importance  sliali  not  bold 

Her  ruin,  as  to  spare  those  foes,  on  whom 

1  the  severest  vengeance  will  inflict. 

That  I  may  reassert  my  injur'd  fame. 

But  hence  must  I  retreat ;  for  I  iS>ehold 

Hippolytus  this  Son  of  Theseus  comes. 

Returning  from  the  labours  of  the  chase : 

A  numerous  band  of  servants,   on  their  Prince 

Attending,  in  the  clamorous  song  unite 

To  celebrate  Diana :   for  he  knows  not 

That  hell  hath  opM  its  gates,  and  he  is  doomed  .     ; 

After  this  day  to  view  the  sun  no  more. 

lExit  V£NV5. 

HIPPOLYTUS,  ATTENDANTS. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Come  on,  my  Friends,  attune  your  lays 
To  resound  Diana's  praise. 
From  the  radiant  fields  of  air 
She  listens  to  her  votaiies  prayer. 

ATTENDANTS. 
Aweful  Queen  enthron'd  above. 
Hail  thou  progtny  of  Jove, 

(3)  We  find  by  Dr.  Musgrave,  Valkenaer,  and  Bninck,  that  tk% 
reading  of  yiumfy  which  is  an  evident  improvement,  is  authorised  by 
some  of  tbe  okiiuiscrqpti:  cjcfvn^  is  that  of  Barnes  and  the  precediqg 
e^ton. 


320  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Virgin  Goddess,  whom  of  yore 
Latona  to  the  Thunderer  bore, 
Thy  matchless  beauties  far  outshine 
Each  of  those  lovely  Maids  divine. 
Who  fill  with  their  harmonious  choir 
The  domes  of  Heaven's  immortal  Sire. 
IJail,  O  thou  whose  charms  excell 
All  Nymphs  that  on  Olympus  dwell. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

To  deck  thee,  I  this  wreath,  O  Goddess^  bear, 
Cropt  from  yon  mead,  o'er  which  no  swain  his  flock 
For  pasture  drives,  nor  hath  the  mower's  steel 
Despoil'd  its  virgin  herbage/  'midst  each  flower. 
Which  spring  profusely  scatters,  there  the  bee 
Roams  unmolested,  and  Religious  Awe 
Waters  the  champaign  with  abundant  springs : 
They  who  owe  nought  to  learni^ig,  but  have  gain'd 
From  nature,  wisdom  such  as  never  fails 
In  their  whote  conduct,  are  by  Heaven  allow'd 
To  cull  these  sweets,  not  so  the  wretch  profane* 
Vouchsafe,  O  dearest  Goddess,  to  receive 
This  braided  fillet  for  thy  golden  hair 
From  me  a  pious  votary,  who  alone 
Of  all  mankind  am  for  thy  worship  meet. 
For  I  with  thee  reside,  with  thee  converse. 
Hearing  thy  voice  indeed,  tho'  f  thy  face 
Have  never  seen.     My  life  as  it  began 
May  I  with  spotless  purity  conclude!  . 

OFFICER,  HIPPOLYTUS. 

OFFICER. 

My  royal  Master  (for  the  Gods  alone 
Challenge  the  name  of  (4)  Lord),  will  you  receive 
A  servant's  good  advice  ?  '      ' 

.  (4)  The  authority  of  Kings  In  the  Grecian  states  appears  to  have  been 
finiited  to  such  narrow  bonndSy  that  they  were  in  hct  fittle  more  than 
Generals  of  the  troops;  no  wonder  therefore  the  pe<^le  enfertaio^d  a 


kj. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  321 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

With  joy ;  else  void 
Of  wisdom  I  to  thee  might  justly  seem. 

OFFICER. 
Know  you  the  law  prescrib'd  to  man  f 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

The  law ! 
I  cannot  guess  the  purport  of  thy  qucsiiou. 

OFFICER. 

To  loathe  that  pride  which  siudies  not  to  please.- 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Right:  for  what  haughty  man  is  not  abhorr'd? 

OFFICER. 
Doth  then  an  aflFable  demeanor  tend 
To  make  us  popular  ? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

This  much  avails. 
And  teaches  us  with  ease  to  gain  renown. 

OFFICER. 

But  think'st  thou  that  among  Celestial  Powers 
It  bears  an  equal  influence  i 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Since  the  laws 

strong  jealoufiy  of  their  assuming  such  titles  as  denoted  pretensions  to  str- 
bitrary  power.  In  Sebcr's  Index  to  Homer,  I  do  not  once  meet  with 
the  word  itcntdh;,  here  rendered  "  Lord."  In  the  Rhesus  of  Euripides 
it  twice  occurs^  and  is  both  times  put  into  tlie  mouths  of  Barbarians. 
Henry  Stephens,  in  his  Greek  Thesaurus,  defines  it,  proprie  servi  te^ 
spectu  dictus.  In  the  earlier  times  of  the  Roman  Empire,  when  some 
appearance  of  a  regard  for  freedom  was  still  preserved,  Suetouius  informs 
ns,  that  not  only  Augustus,  but  his  successor  Tiberius,  i ejected  with 
great  indignation  the  title  of  Lord  ;  and  we  Und  by  the  Misopogon  of 
Julian^  that  he  followed  their  example  at  Constantinople  in  much  later 
times,  sorroimded  as  he  was  by  Asiatic  slaves  intmed  to  the  yoke,  men  to 
whom  the  sight  of  a  Philosopher  on  the  throne  was  so  strange,  that 
they  ridiculed  that  moderation  in  the  conduct  of  their  sovereign,  wluch 
they  felt  themselves  incapable  of  imitating,  Mnch  as  the  use  of  wards 
fluctuates,  Dr.  Johnson's  interpretation  of  Despot,  the  EngU-h  d'.r.va- 
tiv^  from  itTnotti:,  is,  <*  an  absokite  Prince,  one  that  governs  wit  i  imlic 
^  nihed  an&oiity." 

VOL.  I.  '  T 


«  % 


322  HIPPOLYTUS. 

By  which  we  mortals  act,  from  Heaven  derive 
Their  origin. 

OFFICER. 
Why  then,  an  aweful  Goddess, 
Neglect  you  to  invoke  ? 

HIPPOLYTUS, 

Whom  ?  yet  beware. 
Lest  thy  tongue  utter  some  imprudent  word. 

OFFICER. 

This  Venus  who  is  station'd  o'er  your  gate, 

HIPPOLITTUS. 
Still  chaste  I  at  a  distance  her  salute. 

OFFICER. 

By  mortals  deem*d  illustrious  she  exacts 
Your  worship. 

HiPPOLYtrS. 
We  select  this  God,  that  friend. 
As  suits  our  various  tempers. 

OFFICER. 

Were  you  wise, 
^\'ise  as  you  ought,  you  might  be  truly  happy. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

I  am  not  pleas'd  with  any  God  whose  rites 
Demand  noctmnal  secrecy. 

OFFICER. 

My  Son> 
We  ought  to  reverence  the  immortal  Powers. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Entering  the  palace,  O  my  Friends,  prepare 
The  viands,  after  a  fatiguing  chase 
Pelicious  is  the  banquet:  tend  my  steeds. 
That  when  1  have  refreshed  myself  with  food 
Them  I  with  more  convenience  to  the  car 
Jlay  yoke,  and  exercise :  but  as  for  this 
Thy  Cyprian  Queen,  to  her  I  bid  adieu. 

[Exettnt  HIPPOLYTUS. nmf  attendants. 


•  4 


HIPPOLYTUS.  S23 

OFFICER. 
Meantime  (for  the  example  of  young  men 
Must  not  be  imitated)  prompt  to  think. 
And  hold  such  language  as  a  servant  ought. 
Before  thy  image  I  devoutly  bend, 
O  sovereign  Venus,  thee  doth  it  behove 
To  pardon  the  rash  boy  who  flush'd  with  pride 
Speaks  foolishly :  seem  thou  as  if  his  words 
Had  never  reached  thine  ear :  for  sure  the  Gods 
In  wisdom  should  transcend  mto's  groveling  race. 

lExit    OFFICER 
CHORUS.    - 

ODE. 

T.  1. 

A  rock  supplies^   as  we  are  told. 
In  such  abundance  the  exhaustless  rill. 
That  oft  the  virgins  Against  its  basis  hold 
Their  copious  urns  to  fill. 

One  of  our  associate  train 

Thither,  in  the  limpid  wave. 

Went,  her  purple  vests  to  lave. 
Then  hung  them  dripping  on  a  cliff,  to  drain. 

And  imbibe  the  sunny  gale  : 

I  from  her  first  caught  this  tale ; 

1.2- 

That  with  sickness  faint,   alone 
In  yonder  palace  on  her  sleepless  bed 
Our  Queen  reclines,  she  a  thin  veil  hath  thrown 
Over  her  beauteous  head  : 
This  the  third  revolving  day. 
Since  o'erpower'd  by  lingering  pains 
She  from  all  nourishment  abstains, 
Westing  that  lovely  frame  with  slow  decay; 
She  thus  her  hidden  griefs  would  end. 
Thus  to  the  silent  'i^ave  descend. 

T  2 


324  HIPPOLYTUS. 

II.  1. 
From  some  God  this  impulse  springs ; 
Sure  Pan  or  Hecat6  have  fir'd  thy  brain, 
Or  awefiil  Cybel6  to  vex  thee  brings 
Her  priests  a  frantic  train  ; 
Perhaps  exulting  in  the  chase 
ITiee  (5)  Dictynna  doth  pursue 
For  neglecting  homage  due 
Her  altar  with  the  promised  cates  to  grace. 
She  swiftly  glides  o*er  mountain  steep, 
Fords  the  lake  or  billowy  deep. 

IL2. 
Have  anoiher's  witching  charms 
Seduc'd  the  Monarch  to  a  stoFn  embrace ; 
Doth  then  a  harlot  in  thy  Theseus*  arms 
The  nuptial  couch  disgrace  ? 
Or  from  Cretan  shores  I  ween 
Some  sailor  cross'd  the  billowy  main, 
Keach'd  this  hospitable  plain. 
And  bore  a  doleful  message  to  the  Queen : 
Hence  with  deepest  anguish  pain'd 
In  her  bed  is  she  detained. 

IIL 
Som6  hidden  grief  with  pregnant  throes  combin*<l^ 

Oft  dwells  upon  the  female  mind. 
Erst  in  my  entrails  rag*d  this  hidden  smart: 

Diana. that  celestial  maid, 
Amid  the  pangs  of  childbirth  wont  to  aid, 

I  then  invok'd,   and  she  whose  dart 
Pierces  the  hind,  with  tutelary  care 
Descended  at  her  votary's  prayer, 

(5)  The  history  of  the  Cretan  nymph  Britomartis,  and  her  receiving 
the  name  of  Dictynna,  from  being  caught  in  a  fisherman^s  net,  as  she 
threw  herself  from  a  rock  into  Uie  sea  to  avoid  the  pursuit  of  the  amo- 
rous MuxMy.fatbeer  to  Phaedra,  is  illustrated  by  the  SchoUast  and  Barnes 
from  a  variety  of  autiiors,  particularly  Callimachus's  hymn  to  Diana: 
ftom  whence  she  appears  to  have  been  a  follower  of  that  Goddess,  vdth 
vAkom  she  has  very  fi^qoently  been  confbnnded,  as  by  Enripides  himself 
in  taas  l^ifaigeDia  in  Tuuis,  v.  127.  edit.  Bifties. 


■* , 


HIPPOLYTUS.  3«5 

And  with  her  brought  each  friendly  Power 
Who  guards  our  sex  in  that  distressful  hour. 

But  lo^  her  aged  Nurse,  before  the  gates 
Leads  out  the  Queen,  oyer  whose  downcast  brow 
Care  spreads  a  deeper  cloud :  my  inmost  soul 
Burns  with  impatience  to  explore  the  grief 
Which  pr^s  in  eecret  on  her  fading  charms. 

PH-ffiDRA,  NURSE,  CHORUS. 

NURSE. 
Ye  wretched  mortals,  who  by  loath'd  disease 
Are  visited !  what  shall  I  do  to  aid  thee. 
Or  what  ghall  I  omit  i  the  solar  beams 
Here  may'st  thou  view,  here  find  a  cooling  air. 
For  we  without  the  palace  doors  have  borne 
The  couch  where  sickening  thou  reclin'st.     Thy  talk 
Was  all  of  coming  hither:  but  in  haste 
Back  to  thy  chamber  soon  wilt  thou  return  : 
For  thou,  each  moment  altering,  tak'st  delight 
In  nothing  long ;  the  present  quickly  grows 
Unpleasing,  somewhat  absent  thou  esteem'st 
More  grateful.     Better  were  it  to  be  aick 
Than  tend  the  lingering  patient ;  for  tbe  first 
Is  but  a  simple  ill,  the  last  unites 
The  mind's  more  pungent  griefs  and  manual  toil. 
But  the  whole  life  of  man  abounds  with  woe. 
Our  labours  never  cease :  yet  sure  there  is,  ) 
^There  is  a  blest  futurity,  conceal'd  f 

I  Behind  thick  night's  impenetrable  veil.      J 
We  therefore  seem  mistaken,  when  we  doat 
On  yonder  sun,  that  o'er  this  nether  earth 
Displays  its  glittering  beams,  because  we  know 
Vo  other  life,  nor  have  the  realms  beneath 
Been  e'er  laid  open :  but  by  tales,  devis'd 
7*0  cheat^  at  random  are  we  borne  away. 

PH£DRA. 
Lift  up  my  body^  prop  my  binking  bead,  .    ^ 

> 


326  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Each  limby  my  friends,  has  lost  its  strength ;  rastain, 
O  ye  who  on  your  wretched  mistress  tend, 
My  hands  which  hang  quite  motionless :  away 
With  cumbrous  ornaments,  the  cawl  remove^ 
And  let  these  tresses  o'er  ray  (6)  shoulders  flow. 

NURSE. 

Daughter,  be  cheerful,  and  compose  to  rest 
Thy  languid  frame :  thou  if  with  patience  arm'd 
And  generous  fortitude  of  soul,  wilt  bear 
Thy' sickness  better.    For  mankind  are  doom'd 
By  fate  to  struggle  with  a  load  of  ills 

How  shall  I  drink  at  yonder  limpid  fount 
The  cooling  waters,  and  'midst  grassy  vales 
Recline  my  wearied  limbs  beneath  the  shade 
Of  spreading  alders  i 

NURSE. 

What  confus'd  discourse 

« 

Escapes  thee  ?  utter  not  before  the  crowd 
Such  words  as  closely  border  on  distraction. 

PHJEDRA. 

Lead  to  yon  mount;  I  tiead  the  piny  grove^ 
Where  the  staunch  hounds  along  the  mazy  track 
Follow  their  prey,  and  lightly  bounding  seize 
The  dappled  stag:  ye  Gods,  with  my  shrill  voice 
What  joy  to  rouse  them,  while  my  auburn  hair 
Floats  in  the  wanton  gale,  and  brandish  round 
In  my  firm  hand  Thessalia's  pointed  lanpe. 

NURSE. 

Whence,  O  my  Child,  proceed  these  anxious  car^af 
What  business  with  the  chase  hast  thou  ?  why  thirst 

(6)  Had  the  reading  of  w/uux^,  <<  shoulders,"  Instead  of  m  /umi,  ^  ah  mt^ 
heea  any  new-fangled  device  of  Valkenaer  and  Dr.  Musgrave,  I  shovkl 
not  have  considered  it  as  sufficiently  important  to  trouble  the  reader 
vrith :  but  he  is  here  indebted  to  them  for  havmg  restored  the  genuiiufc 
text  as  it  stood  in  the  edition  of  Lascaris,  i^hich,  according  to  Dr.  Mua-  - 
grave  in  his  note,  is  authorised  by  ev^ry  manusc^t.' 


i."' 


HIPPOLYTUS.  s«7 

For  the  pure  fountain,  while  a  constant  spring, 
Whose  waters  thou  may'st  drink,  flows  hard  beside 
The  citadel? 

PHJEDRA. 

Dread  Artemis,  thou  Goddess 
Presiding  o'er  yon  sacred  (7)  lake,  who  aid*st 
The  fleet-hoof  *d  racer,  bear  me  o'er  thy  fields 
To  tame  Hennetia's  coursers. 

NURSE. 

Why  repeat 
These  incoherent  wprds  f  but  now  to  climb 
The  mountain's  lofty  summit  was  thy  wish 
That  thou  might'st  hunt,  then  on  the  sandy  beach 
To  drive  thy  steeds.    O  for  an  abler  Seer 
Who  can  expound,  what  God  with  iron  curb 
Subdues  my  Daughter,  and  perverts  thy  soul. 

PH.£DRA. 

Ah,  what  have  I  been  doing  ?  wretched  me ! 
From  my  right  senses  whither  have  I  wander'd  i 
Into  this  frenzy  I,  alas !  ^m  plung'd 
By  some  malignant  Demon.     Yet  once  more 
Cover  my  head.    The  words  which  I  have  spoken 
Fill  me  with  conscious  shame,  and  many  a  tear 
Streams  down  my  cheeks ;  I  feel  the  rising  blush, 
And  know  not  where  to  turn  these  eyes.    The  pang^ 
When  reason  reassumes  her  throne,  is  great. 
Tho'  madness  be  an  evil :  yet  'tis  best 
When  in  that  state  unconscious  we  expire. 

(7)  Some  commentators  thinly  .that  ^(|txy«  is  a  proper  name,  and  shoiUd 
be  translated  Limna,  where  it  seems  ttie  gymnasium  of  Troezene  "was  situ- 
ated :  but  Pausanias  informs  us,  that  the  temple  erected  to  Diana  by 
Saron,  an  aiitien£1ung  of  iiAt  country,  from  vfaom  the  jSaronian  bay  de- 
rived its  name,  stood,  TiXfAi^Jw^  locofia^tri.  The  steeds  of  Hennetia 
are  again  mentioned,  v,  1132  of  this  tragedy,  where  they  are  called,  in 
Rattalaer's  Yersiqp;  Pi^hlagonid;  the  B^nnettans  were  a  colony  from 
that  nation  who  settled  on  the  bord^  of  the  Adriatic  sea,  at  the  spot 
where  Venice  now  stands.  Homer,  m  his  catalogue  of  the  Trojan  allies, 
lUDtioiii  Heonetiii  ai  celebrated  for  iti  breed  of  mpks. 


I 


Ses  HIPPOLYTQS. 

NURSE. 

Thee  thus  I  cover:  but  ah,  when  will  death 
Cover  my  body?  a  long  life  hath  taught  me  - 
Full  many  an  useful  lesson.     Frieudships  form*d 
With  moderation^  for  the  human  race 
Are  most  expedient,  nnd  nut  such  as  pierce 
The  marrow  of  their  souls  :  with  the  same  ease 
As  they  the  sacred  chords  entwine,  \\ny  ought 
To  slacken  them  at  will.     But  for  one  heart 
To  suffer  twofold  anguish,  as  1  grieve 
For  my  unhappy  Mistress,  is  a  load 
Beyond  endura^ice.     Tis  remark'd,  there  springs 
From  all  sensations  too  intense,  more  pain 
Than  pleasure,  and  our  health  they  oft  impair. 
A  foe  to  all  excess,  I  rather  praise 
This  sentence;  "  not  too  much  of  any  thing;" 
And  in  my  judgment  will  the  wise  concur. 

CHORUS. 
Thou  aged  Dame,  who  hast  with  stedfast  zeal 
Attended  royal  Phaedra,  we  observe 
What  agonies  she  suffers,  but  discern  not 
The  nature  of  her  malady ;  and  wish 
By  thee  to  be  instructed  whence  it  springs. 

NURSE. 

I.^ow  not;  for  no  answer  will  she  give 
To  my  enquiries. 

CHORUS. 

Nor  the  source  whence  rise 
Her  sufferings  ? 

NURSE. 

Your  account  and  mine  agree : 
For  she  on  all  these  points  remains  still  dumb. 

CHORUS. 
How  faint  and  wasted  seems  that  graceful  form ! 

NURSE. 

No  wonder :  since  she  tasted  any  food 
This  day'u  thethitd.  -    " 


«     T 


mPPOLYTUS.      ^  Sfl9 

CHORUS. 

By  Ate's  wrath  overcome. 
Or  does  she  strive  to  die? 

NURSE. 

To  die  she  strives, 
And  by  such  abstinence  her  life  would  end. 

CHORUS. 

Strange  is  thy  tale:  this  cannot  please  her  Lord. 

NURSE. 
From  him  she  hides  her  sickness,  and  pretends 
To  be  in  heahh. 

CHORUS. 

If  in  her  face  he  look. 
Can  he  not  read  it? 

NURSE. 

To  a  foreign  land 
From  hence,  alas,  he  went,  nor  yet  returns ! 

CHORUS. 

Why  art  thou  not  more  urgent  to  explore 
This  malady,  these  wanderings  of  her  soul  i 

.  NURSE. 

Without  effect  all  methods  have  I  tried : 
Yet  with  the  self-same  zeal  will  I  persist. 
That  ye  may  testify  the  strong  attachment 
Which  i  to  my  unhappy  Queen  have  borne. 
O  my  lov'd  Daughter,  let  us  both  (jorget 
What  we  have  said  :  be  thou  more  mild,  that  gloom 
Which  overcasts  thy  brow,  those  harsh  resolves. 
Lay  ihou  aside,  and  if  to  thee  erewhile 
.1  spoke  amiss,  in  milder  accents  now 
Will  I  express  myself ;  if  under  pains 
Thou  labour,  such  as  may  not  be  reveal'd. 
To  succour  thee  thy  female  friendis  are  here? 
But  if  the  other  sex  may  know  thy  suflkrings> 
Let  the  Physician  try  his  healing  art. 
In  either  case,  why  silent?  it  behoves  ^ee, 
O  Daughter^  to  reply ;  a^d,  if  I  speak 


S30  HrfPOLYTUS. 

Unwittingly,  reprove  me,  if  aright. 

With  wholesome  admonition  O  concur. 

Say  somewhat :  cast  one  look  tbis-way.    Ah  me! 

But  listen  to  this  truth,  tho'  more  perverse 

Than  ocean's  waves  :  thy  Children,  if  thou  die. 

Will  be  deserted,  and  can  have  no  share 

In  the  paternal  house :  for  his  first  Queen, 

That  martial  Amazonian  Dame,  hath  borne 

Their  Sire  a  Son  to  lord  it  o'er  thy  race, 

Tho'  illegitimate,  with  liberal  views 

Trained  up  from  infancy,  him  well  thou  knowlsf^ 

Hippolytus. 

Ah  me! 


NURSE. 

Doth  then  that  name. 


Affect  thee  ? 


PHJEDRA. 

You  have  ruin'd  me;  peace/ peace: 
Be  silent,  I  conjure  you  by  the  Qodsi,  . 

Speak  of  that  man  no  more. 

NURaE. 

•  With  open  eyes, 
And  senses  now  restored,  canst  thou  neglect 
Thy  Children's  int^rpst,,.  nor»  preserve  thy  life  i 

I  love  my  Children  :  but  another  storm 

Assails  me.  f  r 

NURSE.  ; 

O  my  Daughter^  sure  thy  hands  .; 

Are  undefil'd  with  blood  f .    .    . 

PHJEPiU. 

My  hands  are  pure. 
Yet  doth  pollution  harbour  in  my  souU  . 

Proceeds  thk  mischief  froinaome  foe  f     . 


HEPPOfLYTUS.  851 

PHiEDRA. 

A  friend. 
An  unconsenting  friend/alas,  destroys  me. 
Nor  do  I  perish  thro'  my  own  consent. 

NURSS. 

Hath  Theseus  wrong*d  thee  ? 

PHiEDRA. 

May  I  ne'er  be  found 
To  have  injur'd  him! 

NURSE. 

Then  what  important  cause 
Precipitates  thy  death  ? 

PH^DRA. 

Indulge  my  error ; 
For  I  'gainst  you  offend  not. 

NURSE. 
My  assent 
To  such  request  would  be  a  breach  of  duty. 

PHiEDRAp 

What  mean  you  by  this  violence  ?  why  bang 
Upon  my  hand  i 

NURSE. 

In  suppHant  posture  thus. 
Thus  to  thy  knees  for  ever  will  I  cling. 

^PHiEDRA. 

If  yt>Uy- uiihappy 'woman^  beard  my .  W9e8^ 
You  would  partake  them.  ^ 

;^NURSE. 

What  severer  woe 
Can  possibly  befall  me.tban^tlie  loss 
Of  thee,  my.bonor^d.mistness?  (8)  for  I  see 
Thou  art  resolv'd  to  perish. ' 

PHj^BA. 

This  affair 
To  me  will  bring  renown. 

TctjO.  ^^  ^ff^  ^»  vitk  wiiicb  Ptedra*s  jre||ly  uswUy  conmieiiefSy  is 
lM|N|i#^ lua^pfi^ iHvp^t. tj^rnhm  ^  iMitlw»ities  of  VtikJamf. and 


932 


HIPPOLYTUS. 


\ 


NURSE. 

Why  then  conceal 
Those  merits  into  which  I  wish  t'  enquire? 

FHMDRA. 

m 

Me  virtuous  motives  prompt  to  deeds  of  sbaroe. 

NURSE. 

Keveal  those  motiveS|  hence  shalt  thou  appear 
More  noble. 

PHiEDRA. 
O  depart^  I  by  the  Gods 
Conjure  you>  and  release  my  hand. 

NURSE. 

Not  thus. 
If  this  request  from  me  thou  still  withhold* 

PHJEDRA. 

I  will  comply;  for  you  my  aged  suppliant. 
Such  due  respect  1  entertain. 

NURSE. 

In  silence 
Will  I  attend:  now  is  it  thine  to  speak. 

PHiEDRA. 

My  wretched  (9)  Mother,  what  a  love  was  thine? 

NURSE. 
Why  sbould^st  thou  name  her  passion  for  that  BuU? 

PHJEDRA. 
And  you  my  hfipless  Sister,  Bacchus'  Wife-^ 

NURSE. 

What  ails  thee?  why  dost  thou  recount  the  shame 
Of  these  thy  kindred  ^ 

PHJEDRA. 

But  of  me  the  third. 

How  wretched  is  the  fate!  .    ■  .     . 

NUR«E. 

'I  liou  strik'st  me  dumb. 
Where  will  this  history  end  i  ♦  .  ■ 

(9)  The  reader  wilt  iind  the  histories  Df  Pasiphae  llie  Motber,  and 
Ariadne  'the  Sister  of  Phi^dra^,  ta  tufo^-tf  ib«  mTthotogical  wttedir^'  nir* 
ticularly  Ovid,  Metamorphoses,  L.  8.  v,  ISI— -182.  *''''■*"  ^ 


^\ 


1^-'. 


.  .'-.tfl 


HIPPOLYTUS.  333 

PH£DRA. 

Thence  spring  my  woes. 
Woes  of  no  recent  date. 

NURSE. 

I  understand 
As  little  of  the  secret  I  would  learn. 
As  if  thou  still  wert  silent. 

PH^DRA. 

How  should  you  i^^  <^ 

Divine  my  thoughts  so  as  t'  anticipate                i"^  C.trxi'^       j 

What  I  would  speak  ?  v/iti^rl^Wti^ 

NURSE.  • 

No  prophetess  am  I, 
These  mysteries  with  precision  to  unfold. 

P£UEDRA. 
Say,  what  is  that  which  men  entitle  Love  ? 

NURSE.  . 

/    Love  is  a  mixture  formM  of  sweetest  joys,  I ' 
I  And  torments  most  severe,  / 

^  PHiEDRA. 

The  last  of  these 
Have  I  experienced. 

NURSE. 

Daughter,  ha,  what«aid'st  thou? 
For  whom  thus  bum'st  thou  with  forbidden  (ires? 

PHiEDRA. 

Who  is  that  Son  of  th'  Amazonian  Dame  f 

NURSE. 

Mean'st  thou  Hippolytus  i 

PHiEDRA. 

By  you,  not  me. 
That  name  was  utter'd. 

NURSE. 

Ah,  what  words  are  these? 
How  hast  thou  ruin'd  me!  This,  O  my  friends. 
Is  not  to  be  endured ;  I  cannot  live 
To  bear  it :  to  these  eyes  the  lamp  of  day     ^ 


354  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Grows  odious ;  the  incumbrance  of  this  body 

Will  I  cast  ofF^  nor  en  such  tenure  hold 

A  being  I  abhor;  and  now  farewell 

For  ever  ;  count  me  dead.     Chaste  matrons  yield 

With  some  reluctance^  yet  to  lawless  love 

At  length  they  yield.    Venus  is  then  no  Goddess, 

But  somewhat  more  than  Goddess :  for  my  Queen 

And  me,  and  this  whole  house,  hath  she  destroyed. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

Too  clear  thou  heard'st  the  royal  Dame  confess 
The  horrors  which  her  bosom  stain  : 

O  had  I  died  ere  this  severe  distress 

Shook  reason's  seat,  and  iir'd  her  frantic  brain  I 
Thy  sorrows  are  by  Heaven  decreed. 
(10)  Ye  miseries  on  which  mortals  feed!  ,   '  ^ 
Thy  shame  lies  open  to  the  sun. 

And  thou,  my  royal  Mistress,  art  undone. 
Short  is  thy  date  : 
What  cruel  fate. 
Such  as  with  life  alone  can  end. 
Shall  to  the  grave  thy  steps  attend  ? 
1  see,  I  see  thro'  time's  deep  gloom. 
These  mansions  fall  by  Venus'  doom  : 
Such  revolution  is  at  hand. 

Thee,  hapless  Cretan  nymph,  the  Fates  demand* 

PELEDRA. 

O  ye  Troezenian  matrons,  who  reside 
On  this  extremity  of  the  domains 
Where  Pelops  rul'd ;  thro'  many  a  wakeful  night 
Have  I  considered  whence  mankind  became 
Thus  universally  corrupt,  and  deem 

flO)  The  thought  of  Timoi  r^^yli;  /3^  Strikingly  resembles  that  of 
>yn>jd>}  ra  iax^jec  fxu  i^u  y'  afkc  n/xf^rt;  xru  yvxnag,  as  it  Stands  in  the  Septuagint 
version  of  the  Psalms  3  and  in  the  Enghsh  ^<  my  tears  have  been  my  meat 
'^  day  and  night'* 


HIPPOLYTUS.  355 

That  to  the  nature  of  the  humaa  soul. 
Our  frailties  are  not  owing  :  for  to  form 
Sound  judgments,  is  a  privilege  enjoy 'd 
By  many.     But  the  matter  in  this  light 
Ouf/'it  to  be  view'd ;  well  knowing  what  is  goo4l. 
We  practise  not.     Some  do  amiss  tRro'  sloth. 
Others  to  virtue's  rigid  laws  prefer 
Their  pleasures  ;  for  with  various  pleasures,  lifit 
Is  furnish'd;  conversation  lengthen 'd  out 
Beyond  due  bounds,  ease  that  bewitching  pest, 
And  shame,  of  which  there  are  two  kinds,  one  leads 
T6  virtue,  by  the  other  is  a  (1 1)  house 
Involved  in  woe  ;  but  if  the  proper  season 
For  our  expressing  shame  were  ascertained 
With  due  precision,  things  which  bear  one  name 
Could  not  have  difFer'd  thus.     When  in  my  mind 
I  had  revolv'd  these  thoughts,  to  me  it  seem*d 
As  if  no  magic  had  sufficient  power 
To  warp  the  stedfast  purpose  of  my  soul. 
Here  I  to  you  the  progress  of  my  heart  t 

Will  next  unfold,  since  Lo\e  with  his  keen  shafts 
These  wounds  inflicted;  studious  how  to  bear, 
As  it  became  me,  this  abhorr'd  disease, 
I  from  that  time  have  by  a  wary  silence 
Conceard  the  pangs  I  suffer.     For  the  tongue  j 
Must  not  be  trusted,  well  can  it  suggest  / 

■  To  others  wholesome  counsels  when  they  err, 
;Tho'  to  its  owner  oft  it  proves  the  source 
Of  grievous  ills.     I  next,  this  amorous  rage 
With  fii^mness  was  determin'd  to  endure. 
And  conquer  it  by  chastity.     At  length, 
"When  all  tliese  sage  expedients  prov'd  too  weak 
O'er  Venus  to  prevail,  my  best  resource 
"  I  thought  was  death  :  none  hath  a  right  to  blame 

(11)  Dr.  Musgrave  in  his  note  int^prets  nySsg  wxtfv  to  mean,  that  a 
false  shame  induces  many  to  live  in  a  style  too  elegant,  and  beyond  their 
income. 


SS6  HIPPOLYTUS. 

'  These  counsels.     May  my  virtues  bci  conspicuous  } 
But  when  I  act  amiss^  I  would  avoid 
Too  many  witnesses.     That  on  such  deed, 
And  e'en  the  inclination  to  transgress, 
Disgraie  attends,  1  knew,  and  was  aware 

'  That  if  from  honor's  paths  a  woman  swerve. 
She  to  the  world  is  odious.     On  her  head 
Be  te[(ftdd  ruin  heap'd  who  first  presum'd 
To  introduce  adulterers,  and  defile 
The  nuptial  couch ;  from  those  of  nobler  birth 
Begun  this  evil  thro'  our  sex  to  spread. 
For  when  foul  deeds  please  those  who  erst  have  borne 
A  virtuous  character,  to  souls  deprav'd 
They  recommend  themselves  beneath  a  form 
Of  seeming  excellence.    Those  too  I  hate 
Whose  words  are  modest,  but  their  lives  impure 
In  private.     O  thou  Goddess,  who  didst  rise 
From  Ocean,  lovely  Venus,  how  can  these 
Without  a  blush,  their  injur'd  Lords  behold  ? 
TVemble  they  not,  lest  their  accomplice  darkness^ 
Or  lest  the  vaulted  roofs  of  their  ab jdes^ 
Should  send  forth  an  indignant  voice?  this  robs 
Your  Queen  of  life,  my  friends :  so  shall  the  charge 
Of  having  sham'd  my  Lord,  my  Children  sham'd. 
Be  never  urg'd  against  me:  free  and  blest 
With  liberty  of  speech,  in  the  ftim'd  city 
Of  Athens,  they  shall  dwell,  maternaffame 
Transmitted  for  their  portion.     E'en  the  man 
Of  dauntless  courage,  dwindles  to  a  slave. 
If  conscious  that  his  Mother  or  his  Sire 
Have  acted  wickedly.     One  only  good, 
A  just  and  virtuous  soul,  the  wise  afhrm, 
Strives  for  pre-eminence  with  life:  for  Time, 
At  length,  when  like  some  blooming  nymph  her  charms 
Contemplating,  he  to  our  eyes  holds  up 
His  mirror,  every  guilty  wretch  displays. 
Among  that  number  may  I  ne'er  be  found! 


HIPPOLYTUa  ss? 

CHORUS. 
Wherever  we  discern  it,  O  how  fair 
Is  modesty  that  source  of  bright  renown! 

NURSE. 

O  Queen,  at  first,  an  instantaneous  shock, 
I,  from  the  history  of  thy  woes,  receiv'd : 
Now  am  I  sensible  my  fears  were  groundless* 
But  frequently  the  second  thoughts  of  man  (12) 
Are  more  discreet;  for  there  is  nothing  strange^ 
Nought,  in  thy  sufferings,  foreign  to  the  course 
Of  nature  :  thee  the  Goddess  in  her  rage 
Invades.    Thou  lov^st.    And  why  should  this  surprize? 
Many  as  well  as  thee  have  done  the  same* 
Art  thou  resolv'd  to  cast  thy  life  away. 
Because  thou  lov'st?  how  wretched  were  the  state 
Of  th6se  who  love,  and  shall  hereafter  love. 
If  death  must  thence  ensue !  for  tho'  too  strong 
To  be  withstood,  when  she  with  all  her  might 
Assails  us,  Venus  gently  visits  those 
Who  yield ;  but  if  she  light  on  one  who  soars 
With  proud  and  overweening  views  too  high. 
As  thou  may'st  well  conceive,  to  utter  scorn 
Such  she  exposes ;  thro'  the  boundless  tracts 
Of  air  she  glides,  and  reigns  'midst  ocean's  waves-: 
All  things  from  her  their  origin  derive, 
*Tis  she  that  in  each  breast  the  genial  seeds 

(12)  ''  Not  with  respect  to  ns  only,  viho  are  bom  to  consume  tiitt 
^  fruits  of  the  earth:  but  Homer's  immortal  Gods  frequently  hold  the 
^  same  language,  that  their  second  thoughts  ought  to  improve  in  mii^ism 
*^  on  their  first.  Enstathius  quotes  this  proverb  of  Euripides,  which,  it 
«  appears  from  Atlienar.us,  tlie  Tragic  Bard  has  inserted,  not  only  in  his 
'^  Hippoly  tus,  but  also  in  his  Cretan  Vir<;iiis.— Zenobtus  and  Diogeuianut 
**  treating  of  a  proverb,  tlie  words  of  which  are  different  from  this  verse 
*^  of  Euripides,  though  tlie  thought  is  the  same^  represent  it  as  deriving 
*^  its  origin  from  the  sacred  rites;  in  wliich  if  tiie  votaries  were  unable 
^^  to  appease  the  Gods  by  the  victims  first  slain,  others,  called  by  the  Ro* 
**  mans  SucccdaneaB,  were  added  to  them,  till  by  these  means  the  Gods^ 
"  or  at  least  the  Priest,  became  propitious  to  them.  See  Aulus  Gelliui^ 
*^  and  Erasmus  on  the  Adage  Posterioribus  raelioribtti.'*    VauubnuJU 

VOL.  I.  Z 


iS9  fltPPOLYTUS. 

Of  potent  Love  infuses,  and  from  Love 
Descends  each  tribe  that  fills  the  peopled  earth/ 
They  who  with  antient  writings  have  conversed, 
And  ever  dwell  among  the  tuneful  Nine  (13), 
Know  how  to  Theban  Semele's  embrace 
Flew  amorous  Jove,  how  bright  Aurora  stole 
Young  Cephalus,  and  plac'd  among  the  Goda 
The  object  of  her  passion  :  yet  in  Heaven 
They  still  reside,  where  unabashed  they  meet 
Their  kindred  Gods;  those  Gods,  because  they  feel 
A  sympathetic  wound,  I  deem,  indulge 
Their  weakness  :  and  wilt  thou  refuse  to  bear 
Like  imperfections?     Nature  on  these  terms 

(13)  *'  These  verses  of  Euripides  on  the  Loves  of  the  Gods,  are  quoted 
^*  by  i^caliger  in  his  notes  on  Propertius,  and  Bergler  on  the  Clouds  of 
^  Aristophanes,  v.  1076.  The  following  sentiments  exactly  tally  wi& 
«  them:     ' 

'^  Ipsa  Venus  quamvis  comipta  libidine  Martis, 
**  Num  minus  in  caelo  semper  honesta  fuit?^ 

\^liat  tho*  by  Mars  that  amorous  God  rarest. 
Was  Venus  less  rever'd  among  tlie  blest  ?j|^ 

Propertius,  L.  9.  El.  25.  v.  90. 

**  The  Poet  proceeds,  v.  Ill,  lie,  to  explain  the  ideas  of  the  Nur8« 
**  in  Euripides. 

j>  ^  Die  mihi  qnis  potuit  lectum  servare  pudicum  ? 
**  Quae  Dea  cum  solo  vivere  sola  Deo?' 

Produce  one  instance  of  a  nuptial  bed, 

By  no  successfnl  paramour  defil'd  : 
Of  what  young  Goddess  was  it  ever  said, 

Tliat  on  her  Lord,  and  him  alone,  she  smiPd? 

^  Theseus,  in  the  Hercules  Distracted  of  our  author,  speaks  In  tlie  same 
:  '<  strain  of  the  Gods  recorded  by  the  Poets :  and  Racine  puts  much-  of 
^  the  language  of  Euripides'  Nurse  into  the  mouth  of  his  Oeoone,  wh* 
*^  expresses  herself  in  these  characteristic  terms: 

'^  Les  Dieux  m£me,  les  Dieux  de  TOlympe  habitans, 

<<  Qui  d'un  bruit  si  terrible  eponvantent  les  crimes, 

^  Ont  bml^  quelquefbis  des  feux  illegitimes." 

The  very  Gods  who  on  Olympus*  height 

Their  station  hold,  and  loudly  thunder  forth 

Such  dreadinl  threats  'gainst  human  sUis,  have  felt 

In  tiieir  own  bosoms  some  unlawful  fires.  VAlKXNAfiit. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  330 

Decreed,  thou  from  thy  Father  should'st  receive 
Thy  being :  look  for  other  Gods,  or  yield 
Submission  to  these  laws.     Hast  thou  observ'd. 
How  many  Husbands,  men  who  are  endu'd 
With  a  superior  wisdom,  when  they  see 
The  nuptial  bed  by  secret  lust  defil'd, 
Appear  as  tho'  they  saw  not :  and  how  oft 
The  Fathers,  if  their  Sons  transgress,  connive 
At  their  unhappy  passion  f    TfiLCQJBC^al 
Unseemly  actionsj^^isjio  tnflin^part 
Of  human  wisdom ;  nor  should  man,  his  life 
Form  with  too  great  precision ;  for  the  roof, 
The  covering  from  the  storm,  the  builder  leaves 
Less  fair,  less  highly  finished.     If  immers'd 
In  evils  great  as  those  thou  hast  described. 
How  can'st  thou  hope  to  *scape  ?  but  if  thy  virtues, 
Since  thou  art  only  human,  far  exceed 
Thy  failings,  it  is  well  with  thee :  desist, 
O  my  lov'd  daughter,  from  thy  evil  purpose,         ^  ^■ 
And  cease  to  utter  these  reproachful  words: 
For  there  is  nougl  t  but  contumelious  pride 
In  thy  endeavor  to  be  yet  more  perfect 
Than  the  immortal  Gods;  endure  thy  passion 
With  fortitude^  since  'twas  the  will  divine 
That  thou  should'st  love :  but  give  a  prosperous  tuip. 
If  possible,  to  thy  disease.     For  songs 
There  are^with  magic  virtues  fraught,  and  words 
Which  sooth  the  soul :  hence  an  effectual  cure 
May  be  obtained  :  in  such  discovery  man 
Would  long  in  vain  be  busied,  to  our  sex 
If  no  spontaneous  stratagem  occur. 

CHORUS. 
Tho'  her  advice,  amid  thy  present  woes, 
O  Phaedra,  be  more  useful,  I  applaud 
Thy  better  purpose:  yet  applause  unsought 
May  haply  give  offence,  and  to  thine  car 
Convey  sounds  harsher  than  her  specious  words. 


Q 


342  HIPPOLYTUS. 

At  every  thing.     But  whence  arise  these  terrors  ? 

PHiEDRA. 

Aught  that  hath  pass'd,  lest  you  to  Theseus'  Son 
Should  mention. 

NURSE. 

PcJice,  O  Daughter,  be  it  mine 
To  manngc  this  aright:  I  only  sue, 
Benignant  Goddess,  sprung  from  ocean's  waves. 
That  thou,  O  Venus,  would'st  my  projects  aid. 
But  to  our  friends  within,  will  it  suffice 
The  rest  of  my  intentions  to  unfold. 

[Exit  NuRSB. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  1. 
O  Love,  whose  sweet  delusions  fly. 

Instilling  passion  thro'  the  eye. 

And  steal  upon  the  heart. 
Never  thus  my  soul  engage, 
Come  not  with  immoderate  rage, 

Nor  choose  thy  keenest  dart : 
Not  the  lightning's  aweful  glare. 
Not  the  thunderbolts  of  Jove, 
Such  destructive  terrors  bear. 
As  strongly  vibrate  in  the  shafts  of  Love* 

1.  2. 
On  Alpheus'  banks  in  vain,  in  vain. 
Or  at  Apollo's  Delphic  fane. 

Whole  herds  of  slaughter'd  kine 
Doth  Greece  present,  if  we  neglect 
Venus'  Son,  who  claims  respect. 

The  genial  couch  his  shrine : 
With  the  vengeance  of  a  foe. 
If  the  Deity  invades. 
On  man,  he  pours  forth  every  woe. 
And  crowds  with  victims  all  the  Stygian  shades. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  341 

NURSE. 

Hadst  thou  earlier  form'd 
These  rigid  notions,  tbou  should'st  ne'er  have  err'd. 
But  since  this  cannpt  be,  my  counsel  hear : 
From  thee  this  second  favor  I  request ; 
I  in  my  house  have  philtres  to  assuage 
The  pangs  of  love  (whjch  but  just  now  occurred 
To  my  remembrance)^  these,  no^  to  disgrace 
Exposing  thee,  nor  of  such  strong  effeqt 
As  to  impair  thy  reason,  yet  will  work 
On  this  thy  malady  a  perfect  cure. 
Unless  thro'  mere  perversene^  thpu  refuse 
To  make  th'  exp-eriment :  for  we  from  him 
Thou  lov'st,  must  either  take  a  sign,  a  word. 
Or  fragment  of  his  robe,  to  join  two  hearts 
In  mutual  (14)  love* 

Buit  is  this  wondrous  medicioft. 
You  recommeqid,  an  ointment  or  a  potion  l 

NURSE. 

I  cannot  tell.    Search  for  a  cure,  my  child. 
And  not  instruction. 

^ "'    '^        PHiEDRA. 

Greatly  do  I  fear 
Your  wisdom  will  be  carried  to  excess. 

NURSE. 

Know  then  thou  art  dispos'd  to  be  alaroaed 

(14)  Different  coiMbmctioBs  are  g^ven  to  this  passage  by  Brumojr  in 
bis  Theatre  des  Grecs,  and  Mons.  Dopny  Acad.  Inscriptions,  T.  41. 
{>.  446—450 ;  bat  the  word  ^•^)^^fu»  '^  soothing^  occurs  both  here  and  ill 
the  Nurse's  first  spee€|i  to  Phaedra,  after  she  h^  declu>ed  her  resolutiqpi 
to  die;  nor  does  it  l^>pear,  by  the  whole  tenor  of  the  dialogue,  that  th« 
method  by  which  she  prc^poses  to  heal  the  torment  or  disease  arising  from 
Phadrcfs  unhappy  passkm^  is  by  making  use  of  such  a  philtre  as  counte- 
nu;ts  Love,  and  inspures  an  uttev  aversion,  but  that  she  is  all  the  while 
giving  her  hopes  of  con^^iliatiiig  the  affections  of  Hippolytus,  though  she 
mow  expresses  herself  in  more  obscure  and  disguised  terms,  to  avoid 
«haeking  her  Queen,  already  alann^  by  her  preceding  speeches.  In* 
•lead  of  9i«^  '^  a  word,"  Reiskius,  Yalkenaer,  and  Bnmck,  think  we  ought 
lo  read  m\tm,  <<  a  lock  of  hnr." 


342  HIPPOLYTUS. 

At  every  thing.     But  whence  arise  these  terrors  ? 

PHAEDRA. 

Aught  that  hath  pass'd,  lest  you  to  Theseus'  Son 
Should  mention. 

NURSE. 

Peace,'0  Daughter,  be  it  mine 
To  manage  this  aright :  I  only  sue, 
Benignant  Goddess,  sprung  from  odean's  waves. 
That  thou,  O  Venus,  would'st  my  projects  aid. 
But  to  our  friends  within,  will  it  suffice 
The  rest  of  my  intentions  to  unfold. 

[Exit  Nurse, 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  1. 
O  Love,  whose  sweet  delusions  fly. 

Instilling  passion  thro'  the  eye. 

And  steal  upon  the  heart. 
Never  thus  my  soul  engage, 
Come  not  with  immoderate  rage. 

Nor  choose  thy  keenest  dart : 
Not  the  lightning's  aweful  glare. 
Not  the  thunderbolts  of  Jove, 
Such  destructive  terrors  bear. 
As  strongly  vibrate  in  the  shafts  of  Love* 

I.  2. 
On  Alpheus'  banks  in  vain,  in  vain, 
Or  at  Apollo's  Delphic  fane. 

Whole  herds  of  slaughter'd  tine 
Doth  Greece  present,  if  we  neglect 
Venus'  Son,  who  claims  respect. 

The  genial  couch  his  shrine : 
With  the  vengeance  of  a  foe. 
If  the  Deity  invades. 
On  man,  he  pours  forth  every  woe. 
And  crowds  with  victims  all  the  Stygian  shades. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  8i$ 

11.  1. 

By  Venus,  was  (15)  Oechalia's  maid. 
Of  Hymeneal  bonds  afraid. 

Consigned  in  days  of  yore,^ 
Like  a  wild  filly  to  the  yoke, 
Espous'd  'midst  horrid  slaughter,  smoke. 

And  rites  profaned  with  gore; 
Indignant  was  the  virgin  led, 
Streaming  with  dishevel'd  hair. 
To  the  stern  Alcides'  bed. 
While  bridal  shouts  were  mingled  with  despair. 

If.  2. 
Unite,   thou  sacred  "Theban  wall, 
And  fountain  fam'd  from  Dirce's  fall, 

To  witness'  with  what  might 
Resistless  Cythcrea  came, 
Brandishing  ethereal  flame ; 

To  everlasting  night. 
She,  beauteous  Semele  consigned, 
AVho  to  Jove  Lyseus  bore: 
Her  breath's  a  pestilential  wind. 
Our  heads  she  like  the  bee  still  hovers  o'er. 

PKLEDRA.  : 

Restrain  your  tongues :  we,  O  my  friends,  are  ruined*. 

*^ 

(15)  lole,  Daughter  of  Eurytiis  king  of  Oe<^liaIia,  after  having  been^ 
promised  by  her  Father,  as  Apollodorus  informs  u%  to  be  given  m  niar« 
riage  to  the  man  who  should  excel  him  and  his'  Sons  in  archery,  was  by 
them  unjustly  withheld  irom  Hercules,  who  had  given  sufficient  proofii 
of  his  superiority  in  the  use  of  the  bow,  a  weapon  for  which  he  was 
particularly  renowned^  upon  which  the  enraged  Hero  took  the  city  by 
assault,  and,  having  slain  her  Fatlier  and  Brothers,  bore  oi!  the  Pnucess 
in  triumph*  The  antient  Geographers  say,  tiiere  wefe  several  towns  of 
the  name  of  Oechafia;  .but  although  this  city  of  Eurytus  has  had  the 
l)on(  4  of  being  twice  mentioned,  and  expressly  marked  out,  as  such,  by 
Homer  in  his  catalogue  of  the  Grecian  forces,  where  he  speaks  of  it  wiQi 
Tricca  and  Itliom^,  which  were  in  lliessaly,  and  receives  from  Virgil  the 
epithet  of  egregia;  Strabo,  and  all  subsequent  writers,  seem  totally  un* 
%h]»  to  ascertain  its  situatioD  with  any  degree  of  precision. 


94»  HIPPOLYTUS. 

CHORUS. 

O  Phaedra,  say  what  terrible  event 
In  thy  abode  hath  happen 'd? 

PHiEDRA. 

Not  a  word 
Mast  now  be  utter'd :  I  would  hear  these  sounds 
Which  issue  from  the  palace. 

.  CHORUS. 

W  We  are  silent : 

Yet  must  this  prelude  sure  denote  some  ill. 

PlBiEDRA. 

Wretch  that  I  am !   how  dreadful  are  my  woes ! 

CHORUS 

What  shrieks,  alas,  are  these,  what  clamorous  sounds 
By  thee  now  utter'd  ?  speak,  my  hapless  Queen, 
What  sudden  rumor  terrifies  thy  soul  i 

PHiEDRA. 

We  are  undone,  but  stand  ye  at  these  doors 
And  listen  to  the  uproar  raisM  within. 

CHORUS. 

Thou  to  those  porta^  art  already  close. 
And  in  the  yoice  whicn  issues  from  the  palace 
Hast  a  great  interest,  therefore  say  what  ill 
Hath  happened. 

PHiEDRA. 

Stern  Hippolytus,  the  Son 
Of  that  intrepid  Amazonian  Dame, 
In  loudest  tone  full  many  a  horrid  curse 
Is  uttering  'gainst  my  servant. 

CHORUS. 

A  mere  noise 
Is  all  I  hear,  yet  cannot  I  collect 
A  single  word  distinctly :  passing  thro^ 
These  doors,  their  sound  hath  surely  reached  thina^ar. 

PHJEDRA. 
He  plainly  calls  her,  harbinger  of  rice^ 
And  the  betrayer  of  her  Sovereign's  bed* 


HIPPOLYTUS*  3« 

CHORUS. 
Wretch  that  I  am !   thou,  O  my  clearest  Queen, 
Hast  been  betray'd.     What  counsel  can  I  give? 
The  mystery  is  laid  open,  thou  art  ruin'dj 
Utterly  ruin'd. 

PHiEDRA. 

Ah! 

CHORUS. 

Thy  friends  have  proved 
Unfaithful  to  their  trust 

PH£DRA. 

To  her  I  owe 
My  ruin,  who,  tho' prompted  by  her  love. 
Unwisely,  my  calamity  disclos'd. 
Hoping  the  desperate  malady  to  heal. 

CHOOTS. 
What  part,  alas!  remains  for  thee  to  act. 
Surrounded  by  inevitable  mischiefs  ? 

But  one  expedient  for  my  present  ills 
I  know;  their  only  cute  is  instant  death. 

HIPPOLYTUS,  NURSE,  PHffiDRA,  CHORUS. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Earth,  Mother  of  us  all,  and  Sun,  whose  beams 
Diffuse  their  splendor  wide,  what  words  unfit 
For  any  tongue  to  utter,  reach'd  these  ears  ! 

NURSE. 

Peace,  O  my  Son,  lest  some  one  hear  thy  voice. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 
I  cannot  bury  such  atrocious  crimes 
As  these  in  silenee. 

KURSE. 

By  that  fair  right  hand, 

Thee  I  implore. 

HlPPOtfrus, 

Profane  not  by  your  touch. 

My  garment. 


tn  . 


346  HIPPOLYTUS, 

NURSE. 

Groveling  at  thy  knees^  I  aave 
Thou  would'st  not  ruin  me. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Why  wish  to  check 
My  tongue,  if  you,  as  you  pretend,  have  said 
Nought  that  is  hlameahle  ? 

NURSE. 

Yet  must  my  words 
On  no  account  be  publish'd 

fflPPOLYTUS. 

To  the  world 
What's  virtuous  may  with  honor  be  reveal'd. 

NURSE. 

Forget  not  thus  the  reverence,  O  my  Son, 
Due  to  a  solemn  oath. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Altho'  my  tongue  (l6) 

(16)  '^  This  sentence  of  Euripides  hath  had  various  judgements  passed 
'*  on  it;  being  attacked  by  his  felIow*citizens,  and  held  in  contempt  by 
^  postenty :  yet  Cicero,  whose  single  authority  is  equal  to  all  the  Ee»t, 
**■  bestows  some  degree  of  praise  on  it,  and  writes  '  qued  ita  juriitufhi 
**  est,  nt  mens  conciperet  fieri  oportere  id  servandum  est :  quod  aliter, 
"  si  noq  feceris,  nullum  est  perjurium/  By  '  quod  aliter,*  he  evidently 
*'  means  oaths  extorted  by  violence,  and  the  words  of  Euripides  may  b# 
*'  commended  if  made  use  of  by  a  man  who  reflises  to  fulfil  what  rob- 
^  bers  had  forced  him  to  swear :  but  should  any  one  ask  whetiier  tfaift 
*^  sentiment  becomes  his  Hippolytus,  I  consider  it  as  extremely  unwor- 
^  thy  of  him,  nor  does  Cicero  seem  capable  of  having  depied  this. 
^  Hippolytus  had  i^ngaged  hunself  by  an  oatli  to  the  Nurse,  that  he 
*^  would  keep  secret  whatever  she  confided  to  him :  on  hearing  the  wick- 
*<  edness  of  his  Mother-in-law,  which  he  detested,  he  might  blame  his 
^  rashness ;  but  his  soul,  which  comprehended  the  nature  of  the  obligaJtiaii 
*^  wader  which  he  had  voluntarily  laid  himself,  could  by  no  means  be  at 
**  liberty  to  break  it ;  but  after  advancing  this  sentiment  on  the  stage,  he 
"  acts  so  inconsistently  with  his  own  words,  that  he  rather  submits  to  b^ 
*^  assaulted  with  the  most  atrocious  calumnies,  than  in  any  respect  to 
"  violate  the  faith  his  tongue  had  sworn  to  observe  :  moreover  on  this  t\e 
'*  of  religion,  by  which  the  pious  youth  held  himself  bound,  depends  th^ 
'*  wlu)le  Drama.^       Valkenaer, 


HIPPOLYTUS.  347 

Hath  sworn,  my  soul  is  from  the  compact  free. 

NURSB. 

O  thou  rash  youth,  what  meanst  thou  ?  art  thou  bent 
On  the  destruction  of  thy  friends? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

I  hold 
The  friendships  of  the  wicked  in  abhorrence. 

NURS]^. 

Forgive  me:  error  is  the  lot  of  man. 

raPPOLYTUS. 

By  a  fair  semblance  to  deceive  the  world. 
Wherefore,  O  Jove,   beneath  the  solar  beams 
That  evil.  Woman,  didst  thou  cause  to  dwell? 
For  if  it  was  thy  will  the  human  race 
Should  multiply,  this  ought  not  by  such  means 
To  be  effected  :  better  in  thy  fane 
Each  votary,  on  presenting  brass  or  steel, 
Or  massive  ingots  of  resplendent  gold  ; 
Proportioned  to  his  offering,  might  from  thee. 
Obtain  a  race  of  Sons,  and  under  roofs 
Which  genuine  freedom  visits,  unannoy'd 
By  women  live.     But  to  receive  this  worst 
Of  evils,   now  no  sooner  are  our  doors 
Thrown  open,  than  the  riches  of  our  house 
We  utterly  exhaust.     How  great  a  pes*^ 
Is  woman,  thia  one  circumstance  displays ; 
The  very  Father  who  begot  and  nurtured, 
A  plenteous  dower  advancing,  sends  her  forth. 
That  of  such  loath'd  incumbrance  he  may  rid 
His  mansions :  but  the  hapless  youth  who  takes 
This  noxious  inmate  to  his  bed,  exults 
While  he  caparisons  a  worthless  image. 
In  gorgeous  ornaments  and  tissued  vests 
Squandering  his  substance.    With  some  noble  race 
He  who  by  wedlock  a  connection  forms, 
Is  bound  by^hard  necessity  to  keep 
The  loathsome  Consoj;t ;  if  perchance  he  gain 


-    V 


548  HIPPOLYTUS, 

One  who  is  virtuous  sprung  from  worthless  Sires, 

He  by  the  good  compensates  for  the  ills 

Attending  such  an  union.     Happier  he, 

UnvexM  by  these  embarrassments,  whose  Bride 

Inactive  thro' simplicity,  and  mild. 

To  his  abode  is  like  a  statue  fix'd. 

All  female  wisdom  doth  my  soul  abhor. 

Never  may  the  aspiring  Dame,  who  grasps 

At  knowing  more  than  to  her  sex  belongs^ 

Enter  my  house :  for  in  the  subtle  breast 

Are  deeper  stratagems  by  Venus  sown  : 

But  she  whose  reason  is  too  weak  to  frame 

A  plot,  from  amorous  frailties  lives  secure. 

No  female  servant  ever  should  attend 

The  married  Dame,  she  rather  ought  to  dwell 

Among  wild  beasts,  who  are  by  nature  mute. 

Lest  she  should  speak  to  any,  or  receive 

Their  answers.     But  the  wicked  now  devise 

Mischief  in  secret  chambers,  while  abroad 

Their  confidants  promote  it :  thus  vile  wretch, 

In  privacy  you  came,  with  me  to  form 

An  impious  treaty  for  surrendering  up 

My  royal  Father's  unpolluted  bed. 

Soon  from  such  horrors  in  the  limpid  spring 

My  ears  will  I  malce  pure :  how  could  I  rush 

Into  the  crime  itself,  when  having  heard 

Only  the  name  made  mention  of,  I  feel 

As  tho'  I  some  defilement  thence  had  caught? 

Base  woman,  know  'tis  my  religion  saves 

Your  forfeit  life,  for  by  a  solemn  oath. 

If  to  the  Gods  I  had  not  unawares 

Engag'd  myself,  1  ne'er  would  have  refrain'd 

From  stating  these  transactions  to  my  Sire ; 

But  now  while  Theseus  in  a  foreign  land 

Continues,  hence  will  I  depart,  and  keep 

The  strictest  silence.     But  I  soon  shall  see. 

When  with  my  injur-d  Father  I  return. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  349 

tiow  you  and  your  perfidious  Queen  will  dare 
To  meet  his  eyes,  then  fully  shall  I  know 
Your  impudence,  of  which  I  now  have  made 
This  first  essay.     Perdition  seize  you  both : 
For  with  tinsatiated  abhorrence,  still 
'Gainst  woman  will  I  speak,  tho'  sortie  object 
To  my  repeating  always  the  same  charge : 
For  they  are  ever  uniformly  wicked : 
Let  any  one  then  prove  the  female  sex 
Possest  of  chastity,  or  suffer  me, 
^8  heretofore,  against  them  to  inveighs 

[Exit  HtppoLttui. 
CHORUS. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

O  wretched  woman^s  inauspicious  fate ! 

What  arts,  what  projects  can  We  find. 
To  extricate  ourselves,  ere  yet  too  late. 
From  our  diiitress>  or  how  the  snare  unbind  i 

Just  are  the  sufferings  I  etidure : 
Thou  Earth  and  Sun,  ti\y  anguish  cure. 
How,  O  my  friends,  shall  I  avoid 

The  stroke  of  fate  before  I  am  destroyed  f 
Or  how  cbnceal 
The  pangs  I  feel  ? 
What  tutelary  God  is  near. 
What  friendly  mortal  will  appear 
To  aid  me  in  this  hour  of  shame  ? 
A£9ictions  and  an  evil  name 
The  remnant  of  my  life  must  vex  : 

I  now  am  the  most  wretched  of  my  sex. 

CHORUS. 
Alas !  all  n6w  is  over ;  O  my  Queen, 
The  stratagems  thy  hapless  servant  fram'd 
Fail  of  success,  and  desperate  are  thy  fortunes. 

PHJCDRA. 

O  villainous  destroyer  of  your  friexHfe, 


850  HIPPOLYTUS. 

How  have  you  ruin'd  me  !  may  Jove  my  Grandsire" 
Uproot  you  in  his  vengeance  from  the  earth, 
And  smite  with  thunderbohs  that  perjur'd  head. 
When  1  your  baleful  stratagems  foresaw^ 
How  oft  did  I  enjoin  you  to  conceal 
That  fatal  truth,  from  whose  discovery  spring 
The  torments  I  endure  :  but  you  the  secret 
Contained  not,  hence  with  an  unspotted  fame 
I  cannot  die,  but  some  fresh  scheme  must  forge. 
For  this  rash  Youth,  his  soul  with  anger  fii*'d^ 
Will  to  his  Father  my  ofFence  relate, 
(17)  Inform  the  aged  Pittheus  of  my  woes. 
And  with  this  history,  to  my  foul  reproach, 
Fill  the  whole  world.     May  just  perdition  seize' 
Both  you  and  all  who  by  dishonest  means 
Their  unconsenting  friends  are  prompt  to  aid. 

NURSE. 

Thou,  O  my  royal  mistress,  may'st  condemn 
The  fault  I  have  committed :  for  thy  griefs 
Are  so  severe,  that  they  awhile  o'ercorae 
Thy  better  judgement.     But  would^st  thou  admit 
My  answer,  I  could  make  otfei^'  thee  I  nurtur'd, 
And  in  thy  happiness  an  interest  feeL 
But  searching  for  a  medicine  to  remove 
Thy  sickness,  what  I  least  could  wish,  I  founds 
Success  had  stamp'd  me  wise :  for  by  events 
Are  our  opinions  influenc'il* 

Is  it  just. 
And  satisfactory,  thus  first  to  wound. 
And  then  dispute  with  me  i 

NURSE. 

We  dwell  too  long 

(17)  Biimck  considers  this  line  as  an  interpolation,  and  hat  thrown  it 
cut  of  his  edition,  on  account  of  the  manuscript  he  consulted^  in  the  royal 
library  at  Paris  not  contaiooig  it.  Valkenaer  also  marks  it  out  as  de*^ 
ficient  in  two  manuscripts. 


HIPPOLYTU$.  S5l 

On  this  unhappy  subject :  I  confess 

My  folJy :  but,  O  Daughter^  there  are  means 

To  extricate  thee  still  from  all  thy  woes. 

PHJEDRA, 

End  this  harangue  ;  you  counsel'd  me  amiss 
At  first,  and  undertook  a  vile  design. 
Go  mind  your  own  affairs  :  be  mine  the  task, 
What  interests  me,  to  settle  as  I  ought.    [£ri7  nurss. 
But,  O  my  noble  friends,  Troezenian  dames. 
Thus  far  indulgent  to  my  earnest  prayer. 
In  silence  bury  what  you  here  hiave  heard. 

CHORUS. 
I  call  Diana,  venerable  Daughter 
Of  Jove,  to  witness,  I  will  ne'er  reveal 
Aught  of  thy  sorrows. 

PHiGDKA. 

Ye  have  spoken  well. 
But  after  weighing  all  things  in  my  mind, 
I  one  expedient  have  at  length  devis'd 
In  this  calamity,  which  may  secure 
To  my  lov'd  Sons  an  honourable  life ; 
And  to  myself,  encomp     d  by  such  woes 
As  now  befall  me,  some  relief  afibrd. 
For  I  will  never  scandalize  the  house 
Of  Crete,  nor  come,  after  so  base  a  deed. 
Into  the  presence  of  offended  Theseus, 
To  save  one  single  life* 

CHORUS. 

Art  thou  then  bent 
On  mischief  such  as  cannot  be  recalled  ? 

PHiEDRA. 
To  die  is  my  resolve :  but  by  what  means 
I  must  deliberate. 

CHORUS, 

More  auspicious  w^rds 
TOian  these  I  crave. 

PHiCDRA. 

.    .      AlH  frpm  you  expect 


352  BflPPOLYTUS. 

Is  wholesome  counsel.    For  the  Cyprian  Qneeii 
To  whom  I  owe  my  rain,  I  this  day 
Shall  gratify,  thus  yielding  up  my  lifo' 
Vanquish'd  by  ruthless  Love.    But  after  death 
I  to  another  shall  become  a  curse  ; 
Hence  shall  he  learn  no  longer  to  exult 
In  my  disastrous  fortunes,  but  acquire 
Discretion^  while  my  anguish  he  partakes. 

[Exii  PRJBDRA. 
CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  1- 

To  where  yon  rock  overhangs  the  main. 
Waft  me,  ye  Gods,  thence  bid  me  springs 
Transformed  into  a  bird,  on  vigorous  wing 
Thro*  trackless  ether  mid  the  feather'd  train : 

With  rapid  pinions  would  I  soar 
On  high  above  the  Adriatic  shore. 
And  Po*s  impetuous  stream, 
(18)  Fixt  on  whose  banks  that  virgin  choir, 
•     Who  spring  from  an  immortal  SirCf 
Intent  on  the  same  dolorous  theme 
Still  weep  for  Phaeton's  untimely  end. 
While  'midst  the  purple  tide  their  amber  tears  descend. 

IL  ^. 

On  to  those  coasts  would  I  proceed 

Where  the  Hesperides  their  song 
Attune ;  no  mariner  can  thence  prolong 
The  voyage,  for,  his  daring  bark  t'  impede, 

Neptune  those  hallowed  bounds  maintains. 
Where  Atlas  with  unwearied  toil  sustains 
• 

(18)  Ovid,  in  the  second  Book  of  fais  Metamorphoses,  ▼.  S40-^6€f 
has  given  an  account  of  the  Daughters  of  ApoUo  and  Clymene,  and  Sis. 
ters  of  Phaeton,  (Phaethusa,  Lampetia,  and  atfaird,  whose  name  he  haa 
not  transmitted  to  us)  being  transformed  into  Poplars,  on  the  banks  of 
the  rhrer  Eridamis,  or  Po,  in  Italy,  where  their  Brother  perished}  and 
of  their  tears  being  iMBrdeaed:b7  tbe  Sun  i&to  ambcKi 


HIPPOLYTUS.  353 

The  Heavens'  incumbent  load ; 
And  from  a  never-failing  spring 
Ambrosia's  streams  their  tribute  bring, 
Watering  those  chambers,  Jove's  abode : 
There  the  glad  soil  its  choicest  gifts  supplies     , 
Obedient  to  the  reign  of  happy  Deities. 

II.   1. 
Across  yon  hoarse  resounding  main, 
O  bark  of  Crete,  those  hastier  gales 
Which  caught  the  snowy  canvas  of  thy  sails, 
Convey'd  my  Mistress,  but  convey'd  in  vain  ; 
By  fate  from  prosperous  mansions  torn. 
To  nuptial  rites  unhallow'd  was  she  borne^ 
And  scenes  of  future  shame : 
For  surely  from  her  native  land. 
To  the  renown'd  Athenian  strand, 
She  with  a  luckless  omen  came ; 
Tho',  to  the  shore  their  twisted  cables  bound. 
With  joy  the  sailors  leaped  on  fair  Munychia's  ground. 

II.  2. 

Her  strength  in  lingering  sickness  spent. 
Hence  is  she  ordain'd  to  prove 

How  great  the  tortures  of  unlawful  love, 

By  the  command  of  angry  Venus  sent. 
And  after  struggling  long  in  vain, 

Defeated  by  intolerable  pain. 

Her  snowy  neck  around. 
To  bind  that  galling  noose,  resolves, 
Which  from  her  bridal  roofs  devolvesi 
Aw'd  by  the  heaven-inflicted  wound  : 

Choosing  to  perish  (I<J)  thus  with  glory  blest. 
She,  cruel  love,  expels,  the  soul's  tyrannic  pest, 

(19)  The  maimer  in  which  the  Poet  here  represents  his  Heroine  w^ 
dying  to  preserve  her  fan  e,  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  peculiarly  unfor- 
tunate.   He  himself  might  have  beenaMrareofitsimpropriety,  smce  in 
his  Helen,  v.  306,  that  Princess,  deliberating  on  some  mode  of  potting 
VOL.  I.  .  A  A 


I  u.:£l?V' 


354  HIPPOLYTUS. 

MESSENGER,  CHORIK. 

MESSENGER. 

Ho !  ho !  all  ye  who  near  the  palace  standi      i 
With  speed  come  hither ;  by  the  fatal  cord, 
Our  Queen,  the  Wife  of  Theseus,  is  destro/cfc 

CHORUS. 

The  deed,  alas !  is  done.     My  royal  Mistress 
Suspended  in  the  noose  is  now  no  more. 

MESSENGER. 

Why  are  ye  not  more  swift  ?  will  no  one  bring 
The  sharpened  steel,  that,  with  its  aid,  this  instant 
The  bandage  we  may  sever  from  her  neck  ? 

SEMICHORUS  I. 

What  shall  we  do  ?  were  it  not  best,  my  friends. 
To  rush  into  the  palace^  and  our  Queen 
Loose  from  the  knot  which  her  own  hands  hav^  tied  ? 

SEMICHORUS  IL 

But  wh^  do  the  young  servants,  in  this  hour 

ftn  end  to  her  own  life,  observes^  that  ^  hanging  is  ignoble  even  in  slaves  i*' 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Francklin,  indeed,  in  a  note  on  the  Oedipus  lyrannus  of 
Sophocles,  jocularly  speaks  of  it  as  a  death  much  in  fasluon  among  the 
Antients ;  but  that  their  ideas  were  at  least  equally  chaste  with  those  of 
the  moderns  in  regard  to  any  unbecoming  method  of  suicide  or  of  execut* 
ing  ciiminals,  appears  from  that  passage  in  Homer^  Odyssey,  where 
Ulysses,  liaving  determined  to  punish  the  debauched  females  of  Pene- 
lope's court,  "  by  an  impure  death,"  immediately  caused  them  to  be 
hanged.  The  catastrophe  of  Amata  in  Virgil  is  indeed  the  same  with 
that  of  our  Author's  Phaedra,  but  with  more  propriety  expressed  by 

Nodum  inf&iTnis  lethi  trabe  nectit  ab  alt&» 

Then  round  a  beam  a  running  noose  she  tied. 

And  fastened  by  the  neck  obscenely  died,  Dryden. 

Seneca,  though  frequently  unhappy  in  the  execution  of  his  Hippoly  tus, 
has  made  a  very  great  improvement  on  the  plan  of  Emipides,  by  repre- 
senting her  as  Uving  to  see  the  success  of  her  machinations  in  the  death 
of  Hippoly  tus,  and  then  stabbing  herself  through  remorse.  Racine  too 
has  undoubtedly  altered  Phaedra's  death  somewhat  for  the  better,  by 
makmg  her  poison  herself ;  but  let  it  be  remembered  at  the  same  time, 
that  Euripides,  instead  of  followmg  Homer,  as  Sophocles  hath  done,  in 
te  mode  of  Jocasta's  death,  represents  her  as  fallh^  on  the  sword  of  one 
aiher  Sons. 


^  HIPPOLYTUS.  359 

Of  woe,  absent  themselves  ?  to  be  too  busy 
Is  never  safe. 

MESSENGER. 

Extend  the  hapless  body ; 
Unwelcome  office  to  the  lords  I  serve. 

lExit  MESSENGER, 
CHORUS. 

From  what  I  hear,  this  miserable  Dame 
Hath  left  the  world  :  for  they  are  stretching  forth 
Her  corse  as  one  who  is  already  dead. 

THESEUS,  CHORUS. 

\^  THESEUS. 

O  woman,  know  ye  what  loud  voice  is  that 
Within  the  palace?  from  the  menial  train 
Of  damsels,  shrieks  most  grievous  reached  my  ear. 
None  of  my  household  opening  wide  the  gates. 
Deign  to  receive  me  with  auspicious  words 
On  my  return  from  the  (20)  prophetic  shrine. 
Hath  aught  befall'n  the  venerable  Pittheus? 
What  tho'  he  be  already  far  advanc'd 
Into  the  vale  of  years,  yet  would  his  death 
These  mansions  with  a  general  sorrow  fill. 

CHORUS. 

••    Fate  in  its  march,  O  Theseus,  halh  not  pierc'd 
The  aged  :  they  who  in  the  bloom  of  youth 
Are  now  cut  off,  your  sorrows  will  demand. 

THESEUS. 

Ah  me!  hath  cruel  death  then  torn  away 
One  of  my  Sons  ? 

(20)  "  Theseus  is  represented  by  Euripides  as  returning  at  this  very 
^^  moment  of  time  to  Troezene  from  Delphi,  wiiither  he  had  gone  as  a 
^*  votary  of  ApoUo  :  for  they  who  eiUier  went  tliitlier  in  a  public  cha- 
^  racter  as  embassadors  from  their  city,  or  to  consult  the  God  on  their 
^'  own  private  affairs,  were  called  ^Mgu;  and  Thesens^  on  his  returning  in 
''  that  character,  crowned  according  to  antient  usage  with  tlie  sacred 
^  ^'  laurel,  complains  that  none  of  his  domestics  come  forth  to  meet  and 
*'^  congratulate  him  on  his  auspicious  return. '        V^lkenasr. 

A  A  2 


356  HIPPOLYTUS. 

CHORUS. 

They  live,  while  breathless  lie» 
Their  Mother  ;  and  most  piteous  was  her  end. 

THESEUS. 

What  said'st  thou  ?  is  my  dearest  Phaedra  dead  ? 
Thro'  what  mischance  ? 

CHORUS. 

She  tied  the  fatal  noose. 

THESEUS. 

Had  grief  congeal'd  her  blood  ?  or  was  she  urg'd 
To  this  by  some  calamiftous  event  ? 

CHORUS. 
We  only  know  the  fact ;  for  to  the  palace 
Am  I  just  come,  O  Theseus,  that  with  yours 
My  sorrows  I  may  mipgle. 

THESEUS. 

Round  these  brows 
Why  do  I  wear  a  garland,  but  to  shew 
That  I  the  oracle  in  luckless  hour 
Have  visited  ?  Unbar  those  doors,  my  servants. 
Open  them  wide,  that  I  the  wretched  corse 
Of  my  dear  Wife  may  view,  who  by  her  death 
Hath  ruin'd  me. 

('The   Palace    doors   are   opened,    and  the   body  of 
Ph^dra  is  discovered  with  a  veil  thrown  over  it.) 

CHORUS. 

Thy  woes,   unhappy  Queen, 
Were  dreadful;  yet  thou  such  a  deed  hast  wrought 
As  in  confusion  this  whole  house  will  plunge  : 
Presumptuous,  violent,  unnatural  death 
By  thine  own  hand  inflicted  :  -for,  ah!  who. 
Who  but  thyself,  was  author  of  thy  fall  ? 

THESEUS. 
Wretch  that  I  am  !  how  many  and  how  great 
Are  my  afflictions  !  but  of  all  the  ills 
Which  I  have  felt,  this  last  is  most  severe. 


HIPPOLYTUS:  S57 

Me  and  these  mansions  with  what  terrors  ann'd, 
O  Fortune,  dost  thou  visit!  from  some  Fiend 
This  unforeseen  dishonour  takes  its  rise, 
A  life  like  mine  is  not  to  be  endur'd. 
And  worse  than  death  itself:  fof  I  30  vast 
An  ocean  of  calamity  behold. 
That  I  cajtt  never  hope  to  swim  to  land. 
Or  stem  these  overwhejming  waves  of  woe. 
Thee  hqw  shall  I  accost,  .or  in  what  terms 
Sufficiently  deplore  thy  wretched  fate? 
Swift  as  a  bird  'scap'd  from  tb/e  fowler's  hand 
Hence  hast  thou  yanjsh'd  with  impetuous  flight 
To  the  domains  of  sullen  Pluto  borne. 
Grievous,  alas!  most  grievous  are  these  woes. 
But  from  some  antient  stores  of  wrath,  reserved 
By  vengeful  Heaven  to  punish  the  misdeeds 
Of  a  progenitor,  I  sure  derive 
This  great  calamity. 

CHORUS.  ^y 

Not  yo.u  alone 
JIave  such  afflictions  yisited,  O  King ; 
You,  but  in  common  with  a  thousand  mourners, 
Have  lost  the  noble  partner  of  your  bed. 

THESEUS. 
Under  earth's  deiepest  caverns  would  I  dwell. 
Amid  the  shades  of  everlasting  night  (21), 
A  wretch  best  numbered  with  the  silent  dead. 
Now  I,  alas !  for  ever  am  bereft 
Of  thy  lov'd  converse :  for  Jthou  hast  destroyed 
Me  rather  than  thyself.    Who  will  inform  me 
Whence  death,  with  ruthjess  destiny  combin'd. 
Thy  vitals  reach'd  ?  can  fiuy  one  disclose 
The  real  fact;  or  doth  thi§  pal^e  harbour 
A  menial  swarm  in  vain  ?  for  thee,  for  thee, 

(21)  Instead  of  fyjiju)  with  a  comma  prefixed,  I,  with  Bninck,  read 
rx^,  and  subjoin  to  it  the  comma,  which  appears  to  me  a  very  ma* 
terial  improvement  with  but  a  slij^t  violation  of  the  text. 


358  HIPPOLYTUS.  .        ^ 

Alas,  I  grieve !  what  sorrows  of  my  house. 
Too  great  to  be  supported  or  expressed, 
Are  these  which  I  have  witnessed !  but  I  perish; 
These  mansions  are  a  desert,  and  my  Sons 
Have  lost  their  Mother. 

CHORtJS. 

Thou  hast  left,  hast  left 
Thy  friends,  thou  dearest  and  thou  best  of  women. 
Whom  the  resplendent  Sun,  or  glimmering  Moon 
E'er  visited  in  her  nocturnal  round. 
O  my  unhappy,  my  unhappy  Queen  ! 
This  house  what  dreadful  evils  have  befallen! 
Thy  fate  bedews  these  swimming  eyes  with  tear* 
But  shuddering  to  the  sequel  of  our  woes 
Already  I  look  forward. 

THESEUS. 

Ha,  what  means 
The  letter  which  she  clasps  in  her  dear  hand. 
What  fresh  intelligence  can  it  contain  f 
Hath  the  deceased  here  written  a  request 
For  aught  that  to  the  marriage  bed  pertains. 
And  her  sons'  welfare ;  Thou  pale  shade,  rely 
On  this  assurance,  that  no  other  Dame 
The  widow'd  couch  of  Theseus  shall  ascend. 
Or  enter  these  abodes.    Yet  with  such  force. 
These  well-known  characters  the  golden  rmg 
Of  her  who  is  no  more  hath  here  impressed. 
Allure  me,  that  the  seal  I  will  burst  open. 
And  learn  what  charge  to  me  she  would  convey. 

CHORUS. 

Some  God,  alas  !  hath  in  succession  heap'd 
Evil  on  evil :  such  my  fate,  that  life 
Will  be  no  longer  any  life  to  me 
After  this  deed  of  horror.     I  pronounce 
The  house  of  my  devoted  Kings  o'erthrown. 
And  now  no  more  a  house.    Yet,  O  ye  Gods, 
This  family,  if  possible,  forbear 


HIPPOLYTUS.    '  359 

To  crush,  and  listen  to  my  fervent  vow. 
Yet,  like  the  soothsayer,  my  foreboding  sout 
An  evil  omen  views. 

THESEUS. 

To  my  past  woes, 
What  woes,  alas !  are  added,  far  too  great 
To  be  endur'd  or  utter'd !  wretched  me ! 

CHORUS. 

What  fresh  event  is  this?  speak,  if  the  secret 
To  me  you  can  disclose. 

THESEUS. 

With  loudest  voice^ 
The  letter  echoes  such  atrocious  crimes 
As  are  not  to  be  borne.     To  'scape  this  load 
Of  misery,  whither,  whither  shall  I  fly  ? 
For  I,  alas !  am  utterly  undone. 
What  strains  of  horror,  have  these,  wretched  eyes 
Beheld^  in  that  portentous  scroll  exprest ! 

CHORUS. 

All  that  is  terrible,  your  words  announce. 

THESEUS. 
Within  the  door  of  my  indignant  lips. 
No  longer  thus  will  I  contain  a  deed 
Of  unexampled  guilt.     O  city,  city! 
Hippolytus  with  biUtal  force  hath  dar'd 
To  violate  my  bed,  and  set  at  nought 
Jove's  aweful  eye.    O  Neptune,  O  my  Sire, 
Since  thou  hast  firmly  promis'd  that  thou  thrice 
Would'st  grant  me  what  I  pray'd  for ;  now  fulfill 
(22)  One  vow,  and  slay  my  Son,  nor  let  him  'scape 
This  single  day,  if  thou,  with  me,  design 
To  ratify  the  compact  thou  hast  made« 

(22)  The  Scholiast,  on  v.  1349  of  this  Tragedy,  says,  Theseus  received 
an  oracle  from  Apollo,  informing  him,  that  whatever  he  prayed  for  to 
Neptune  should  be  granted  him  three  times:  he  then  arranges  that 
Hero's  petitions  in  the  following  order,  first  Uiat  he  might  return  fnaa 
Hell,  secondly  to  be  extricated  from  the  labynntb,  and  lasUy  that  hiir 
Son  Hippolytus  might  perish. 


» 


360  HIPPOLYTDS. 

CHORUS.  .    r 

Recall  that  imprecation  to  the  Gods : 
for  you,  O  King,  your  error  will  perceive; 
Attend  to  my  advice. 

THESEUS. 
These  ears  are  clos'd : 
Moreover  I  will  drive  him  from  the  land ; 
For  of  these  twofold  fates,  or  this  or  that 
Must  smite  him';  Neptune,  when  he  hears  my  curses, 
Will  plunge  the  miscreant  to  the  shades  of  hell ; 
Else,  cast  forth  from  this  region,  and  ordain'd 
To  wander  in  some  foreign  land,  a  life 
Of  the  profoundest  misery  shall  he  drag. 

CHORUS. 

Behold  how  seasonably  your  Son  himself, 
Hippolytus,  is  coming  :  O  subdue, 
My  royal  Lord,  subdue  that  baleful  rage ; 
Consult  the  good  of  your  unhappy  house.  ;• 

HIPPOLYTUS,  THESEUS,  CHORUS. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Hearing  your  voice,  I  with  the  utmost  speed 
Am  hither  come,  O  Father;  tho'  whence  rise 
These  groans  I  know  not,  and  from  you  would  learn. 
Ha !  what  is  here  ?  your  Consort,  O  my  Sire, 
I  see,  a  breathless  corse  :  this  need?  must  cause 
The  greatest  wonder.     Since  I  left  her  living. 
How  short  the  intervening  space  !  but  now 
She  op'd  those  eyes  to  view  the  radiant  sun. 
What  dire  mischance  befell  her,  in  what  manner 
She  died,  inform  me.     Are  you  silent  still  f 
In  our  calamities  of  no  avail 
Is  silence  :  for  solicitous  to  know 
All  that  hath  pass'd,  with  greediness  the  heart 
Explores  a  tale  of  woe;  nor  is  it  just. 
My  Father,  your  afflictions  to  conceal 
From  friends,  and  those  who  are  yet  more  than  friends. 


HIPPOL^TUS.  361 

THESEUS. 

O  mortals,  why,  unproiitably  lost 
In  many  errors,  strive  ye  to  attain 
A  thousand  specious  arts,  some  new  device 
Still  meditating,  yet  ye  neither  know 
One  rare  attainment,  nor  by  your  enquiries 
Could  ever  reach,  the  gift  of  teaching  those 
Who  lapk  discretion,  how  to  think  aright? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

The  sage  you  speak  of,  he  who  could  compel 
Fools  to  grow  wife,  must  be  expert  indeed. 
But  since  the  subtle  arguments  you  use 
Are  so  ill-tim'd,  my  Sire,  I  greatly  fear 
Your  woes  should  cause  your  tongue  to  go  beyond 
The  bounds  of  reason. 

THESEUS. 

With  some  clearer  test 
Man  ought  to  have  been  furnish'd,  to  discern 
The  thoughts,  and  sever  from  the  real  friend 
Each  vile  impostor.     All  the  human  race 
Should  have  two  voices,  one  of  sacred  truth  ; 
No  matter  what,  the  other :  'gainst  each  plot 
Devis'd  by  foul  injustice,  hence  the  first 
Might  in  perpetual  evidence  come  forth. 
And  none  could  be  deceived. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Hath  any  friend 

Accus'd  me  in  your  ear,  and  fix'd  reproach 
Upon  the  guiltless  ?  I  with  dire  amaze 
Am  smitten :  in  such  incoherent  words 
Your  rage  bursts  forth,  that  horror  fills  my  soul. 

THESEUS. 

Ah,  whither  will  the  mind  of  man  proceed 
In  its  career?  can  nature  fix  no  bounds 
To  impudence?  for  if  this  evil  take 
Still  deeper  root  thro'  each  succeeding  age. 
The  Son  grown  more  abandon'd  than  the  Father, 


SG2  HIPPOLYTUS. 

In  pity  to  this  world,  the  Gods  should  add 
Another  world  sufficient  to  contain 
All  those  who  swerve  from  justice,  and  the  brood 
Of  sinners.     Look  upon  that  impious  wretch, 
Tho'  sprung  from  my  own  loins,  who  hath  defil'd 
My  nuptial  couch;  too  clearly,  the  deceased. 
His  most  atrocious  villainy  hath  prov'd. 
Shew  then  thy  face  before  thy  injur'd  Sire, 
Since  to  this  pitch  of  unexampled  guilt 
Thou  hast  proceeded.     Yet  art  thou  the  man 
Who  holds  familiar  converse  with  the  Gods 
As  tho'  his  life  were  perfect?  art  thou  chaste 
And  pure  from  all  defilement?  by  thy  boasts 
I  will  not  be  deluded,  nor  suspect 
Thou  canst  impose  upon  the  Powers  Divine. 
Now  glory  in  thy  vegetable  food, 
(^3)  Disciple  of  the  tuneful  Orpheus,  rave 
With  Bacchus'  frantic  choir,  and  let  the  fumes 
Of  varied  learning  sooth  thee.     Thou  art  caught. 
From  me  let  all  take  warning,  and  avoid 
Those  artful  hypocrites  who  bait  the  snare 

(23)  "  In  these  words  Euripides  seems  to  me,  with  «qiial  learning  and 
^<  truth,  to  have  asciibed  the  same  origin  to  the  institutions  of  Bacchvs, 
**  Orpheus,  and  Pythagoras,  the  latter  of  ^hom  evidently  borrowed  from 
^*  Orpheus  a  total  abstinence  froni  animal  food.  To  eat  no  flesh  as  is  re- 
**  corded  of  antient  Orpheus,  says  Plutarch  in  his  Banquet  of  the  seven 
*'  vase  men.  Alexis  and  Antiphanes,  in  Athenseus,  deride  the  Philoso- 
*'  phers  for  such  abstinence ;  and  in  this  respect  Zeno  imitated  Hie  Fy- 
^'  thagoreans,  making  use,  according  to  Diogenes  Laertius,  amj^  '^S^y 
^*  that  is,  of  bread,  honey,  and  such  kind  of  food  as  could  be  prepared 
*'  witliout  the  aid  of  fire."    Valkenaer. 

Those  readers  who  have  not  inclination  or  opportunity  to  consult  the 
remains  transmitted  to  us  of  tlie  antient  Philosophers,  will  see  the  admi- 
rable doctrines  of  Pythagoras,  illustrated  with  all  the  energy  and  graces 
of  poetiy,  by  Ovid  m  his  Metamorphoses,  L.  15.  v.  60—478.  which  my 
countrymen,  who  are  acquainted  only  with  their  own  langoage,  may  have 
the  benefit  of  perusing  in  the  vei-sion  of  that  first  of  English  translators 
-  the  great  Dryden,  it  being  inserted  in  his  Miscellaneous  Works,  published 
in  1760,  by  the  late  Mr.  Derrick,  Vol.  IV.  p.  41—68  3  and  in  the  vewion 
of  the  Metamorphoses,  published  by  Sir  S.  Garth. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  S6s 

* 

With  words  denoting  great  austerit}^ 
While  they  contrive  base  projects.    She  is  dead : 
And  so  thou  deem'st  thyself  secure ;  yet  hence 
Thy  guilt,  O  miscreant,  is  more  clearly  proved. 
What  weightier  oath,  what  plea  canst  thou  devise 
This  letter  to  confute,  that  thou  may'st  'scape 
Unpunish'd  for  thy  crime?  wilt  thou  alledge 
She  hated  thee,  and  that  thy  spurious  birlh 
Makes  the  legitimate  thy  foes  ?  'twill  argue 
That  she  was  prodigal  of  life,  if  thus 
She  forfeited  whate'er  her  soul  held  dear 
Thro'  enmity  to  thee.     But  man  belike 
Is  privileg'd  from  lust,  whose  power  innate 
Misleads  frail  woman.     Well  am  I  aware 
Both  male  and  female  are  alike  expos'd 
To  danger,  oft  as  Cytherea  fires 
The  youthful  heart,  altho'  a  partial  world 
Forbear  to  brand  our  sex  with  equal  shame.    \ 
But  wherefore  in  an  idle  strife  of  words 
With  thee  should  I  engage,  when  here^  the  corse^ 
That  witness  most  irrefragable  lies  ? 
With  speed  an  exile  from  this  land  depart. 
Nor  dare  to  enter  Athens  by  the  Gods 
Erected,  or  the  bounds  of  my  domain. 
For  if  from  thee  I  tamely  should  submit      ' 
To  wrongs  like  these,  no  more  would  Sinnis  tell 
How  erst  I  slew  him  at  the  Isthmian  pass, 
But  say  my  boasts  are  vain  ;   nor  would  the  rocks 
Of  Schiron,  dash'd  by  the  surrounding  waves. 
Call  me  the  scourge  of  villains. 

CHORUS. 

At  a  loss 
Am  I,  of  any  mortal  bow  to  speak 
As  truly  happy  :   for  their  lot  who  once 
Were  blest,  hath  undergone  a  total  change. 

HIPPOIrfYTUS. 

Tho'  dreadful,  O  my  Father,  is  the  wrath 
And  vehement  commptioa  of  your  soul^ 


564    ..  HIPPOLYTUS. 

The  charge  against  me  which  now  seems  so  strong. 

If  duly  search'd  into,  will  prove  devoid 

Of  truth  and  honour.     I  am  not  expert 

At  an  harangue  before  assembled  crowds, 

Tho*  somewhat  better  qualified  to  speak 

Among  my  youthful  comrades^   and  where  few 

Are  present :   a  sufficient  cause  for  this 

May  be  assigned;  for  they  who  are  held  cheap 

Among  the  wise,  in  more harmoniousstrains 

Address  the  people.     Yet  ^m  I  constraint 

By  the  severe  emergency  to  burst 

The  bonds  of  silence,   and  begin  my  speech 

With  a  discussion  of  that  odious  charge 

By  you  first  urg'd  against  me,   to  convict. 

And  bar  me  from  replying.     Do  your  eyes 

Behold  the  sun  and  wide  extent  of  earth? 

Say,  what  you  list ;   of  all  the  numerous  tribes 

Who  here  were  born,  there's  not  a  man  more  chaste 

Than  I  am  :   the  first  knowledge  I  acquired 

Was  this,  to  reverence  the  immortal  Gods, 

And  with  those  friends  associate  who  attempt 

Nought  by  the  laws  condemn'd,  but  are  endued 

With  a  deep  sense  of  virtuous  shame,  and  scorn 

Either  themselves  to  practise  or  to  aid 

Unseemly  actions.     I  ne'er  made  a  jest 

Of  those  whom  I  converse  with,   O  my  Sire, 

But  to  my  friends  have  still  remained  the  same 

When  they  are  absent,  as  when  near  at  hand ; 

And  above  all,  by  that  peculiar  crime 

In  which  you  think  that  you  have  caught  me  now. 

Am  I  untainted  :   by  impure  delight 

I  to  this  day  have  never  been  entic'd. 

Of  love  and  its  transactions  nought  I  know. 

Except  what  I  from  casual  talk  have  heard 

(24)  Or  seen  in  pictures,  but  I  am  not  eager 

(24)  "  Euripides  here  speaks  of  paintings,  according  to  the  manners 
"  of  his  own  times,  and  regardless  of  chronological  propriety.  In  the 
^  age  of  Theseus,  no  lascivious  pictures  yet  existed*    But  the  Poet  is 


HIPPOLYTUS,  365 

To  look  on  these,   for  still  my  soul  retains 

Its  virgin  purity.     But  if  no  credence 

My  spotless  chastity  with  you  should  find. 

On  you  is  it  incumbent  to  shew  how 

I  was  corrupted.    Did  your  Consort's  charms 

Eclipse  all  other  women  ?  could  I  hope 

Beneath  your  roofs  to  dwell,  and  with  your  Wife 

That  I  the  rich  inheritance  should  gain  f 

This  sure  had  been  the  highest  pitch  of  folly. 

But  what  a  bait  is  empire !  hone  at  all 

To  those  who  are  discreet,  unless  a  lust 

For  kingly  power  already  hath  corrupted 

Those  who  delight  in  it.     O'er  all  the  sons 

Of  Greece,   in  every  honourable  strife. 

Is  it  my  great  ambition  to  prevail, 

And  be  the  first ;  but  rather  in  the  state 

Would  I  live  happy  with  my  dearest  friends. 

And  occupy  the  second  rank :  for  bliss 

Exempt  from  every  danger,  there  is  found. 

Transcending  all  that  royalty  can  give. 

One  thing  there  is,  by  me  not  mentioned  yet : 

Tho*  all  beside  already  have  you  heard. 

Had  I  a  single  witness  like  myself 

'^  fond  of  similies  taken  from  the  art ;  and  of  this  manner  of  speakmg, 
**  wliich  he  introduces  yet  more  preposterously  in  his  Trojan  Captives, 
"  where  Hecuba  says, 

"  AuT»l  /utev  UTM  vetog  ucri&rt    cxfl^w;, 

"  rgafji  i*  ihi&Uy  wu   itKvaa'  mt^afxtu.**  V,  681. 

I  ne'er  did  mount 
A  ship,  yet  I  from  pictwes  and  report 
These  matters  know. 

<<  for  if  painting  vias  known  at  the  time  of  the  Trojan  war,  which  I  can 
<<  by  no  means  believe,  I  would  ask,  is  it  probable  that  Hecuba,  grown 
'^  old  at  Troy,  in  a  town  situated  near  the  sea-shore,  should  have  see^ 
^'  no  ships  except  in  pictures?"    Brunck. 

Thou^  I  entirely  concur  in  the  above  interpretation,  it  may  be  proper 
not  to  close  tliis  note  without  mentioning  that  Melancthon  renders  ypo^ 
7.vj<Tcui¥,  video  scripturam,  and  Ratalleer,  literas  istas  vidcns ;  and  that 
tbeir  versions  are  supported  by  the  authority  of  the  Scholiast. 


366  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Of  tried  veracitv,  and  couM  debate 

With  her  while  yet  she  Hv'd,  you  from  the  fact. 

After  a  strict  enquiry,  might  decide 

Which  was  the  criifiioal.     But  now,  by  Jove 

Who  guards  the  oath  inviolate,  I  swear 

And  by  the  conscious  Ground  on  which  we  tread. 

That  I  your  Consort  never  did  approach,     . 

No  not  in  will  or  deed.    May  I  expire 

Strip t  of  renown,  and  overwhelm'd  with  shame. 

Torn  from  my  country,  my  paternal  house. 

An  exile  and  a  vagrant  thro'  the  world. 

Nor  may  the  ocean  or  the  earth  receive 

My  breathless  corse,   if  I  have  thus  transgressed ! 

(25)  I  know  not  whether  'twas  thro'  fear  she  lost 

Her  life,  and  more  than  this  I  must  not  say. 

With  her,  discretion  amply  hath  supplied 

The  place  of  chastity  ;    I  still  have  practis'd 

That  virtue,  but^   alas !  without  success. 

CHORUS. 

Sufficient  is  it  to  refute  the  charsfe, 
That  thou  this  oath  hast  taken,   and  call'd  down 
The  Powers  immortal  to  attest  its  truth. 

THESEUS. 

Is  he  not  rather  an  audacious  cheat. 
Trusting  in  magic  arts,  who  dares  to  think 
He  by  an  oath  can  bias  the  resolves 
Of  his  insulted  Sire  ? 

HIPPOL\TUS. 

The  part  you  act 
Challenges  my  astonishment:  were  you 
My  Son,  and  I  your  Father,  had  you  dar'd 

(25)  "  This  might  be  spoken  with  truth  by  Hippolytus ;  and  there  was 
**  some  room  for  doubt,  whether  Phaedra  had  put  an  end  to  her  own 
"  hfe,  because  she  was  enraged  at  the  repulse  she  had  met  with,  or 
"  throng  fear.    The  verse  of  Hippolytus,  or  Vhrbius,  in  Ovid, 

"  Judidine  metu  magis,  ofiensane  repulsae. 

"  Met  L.  XV.  V.  Wi» 
'<  seems  to  me  tq^depend  on  another  which  is  lost.''    Valkbnaeiu 


HIPPOLYTUS.  S67 

To  violate  my  Wife,  I  would  not  banish. 
But  kill  you* 

THESEUS. 

Seasonable  remark :  the  sentence 
Which  on  thyself  with  justice  thou  hast  pass'd 
I  will  not  now  inflict ;  for  instant  death 
Is  grateful  to  the  wretched.     But  ordain'd 
An  exile  from  thy  native  land  to  roam, 
A  life  of  tedious  sorrow  shalt  thou  drag 
In  foreign  realms  ;  such  are  the  wages  due 
To  an  unrighteous  man. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

What  means  my  Sire? 
Instead  of  waiting  till  impartial  time 
The  merits  of  my  conduct  ascertain. 
Hence  will  you  banish  me  ? 

THESEUS. 

Had  I  the  power. 
Beyond  the  ocean,  and  where  Atlas  stands 
Upon  the  (0,0)  utmost  limits  of  the  world, 
So  strong  the  hatred  which  to  thee  I  bear  — 

HIPPOLYTUS. 
What,  without  searching  into  any  proof 
From  oath,  or  witness,  or  the  voice  of  Seers, 
Expel  me  uncondemn^  from  these  domains  I 

THESEUS. 

This  letter,  which  no  soothsayer  can  require 
To  make  it  better  understood,  the  charge  ' 

V 

(26)  Virgil's  idea  of  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  world  is  some^^hat 
•imilar,  and  more  circumstantially  marked  out, 

Oceani  finem  juxta,  solemque  cadenteoi 

Ultimus  ^thiopum  locus  est,  ubi  raaximus  Atlas 

Axem  humero  torqaet  JEn,  L.  iv.  v.  480. 

**  Where  the  Sun  sets,  and  utmost  Ocean  ends, 

<<  The  farthest  bounds  of  ^tliiopia  Ue ; 

**  There  mighty  Atlas  on  his  shoulders  bears 

^  Heaven*!  axis."  *       Strahan. 


368  HIPPOLYTUS. 

'Gainst  thee  authenticates;  so  to  those  birds 
Who  hover  o'er  our  heads  I  bid  adieu. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 
Why  am  I  not  permitted,  O  ye  Gods, 
To  ope  my  mouth,  when  I  my  ruin  owe 
To  you  whom  I  adore?  I  will  not  speak  : 
For  he  I  ought  to  move  hath  'gainst  my  voice 
Clos'd  his  obdurate  ears:  I  should  infringe 
A  solemn  oath,  and  sport  with  Heaven  in  vain. 

THESEUS. 

To  me  past  all  endurance  is  that  mask 
Of  sanctity  which  thou  assum'st.     With  speed 
Why  go'st  thou  not  from  thy  paternal  land  ? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Whither  can  I  betake  myself  i  what  friend 
Will  to  his  house  admit  an  exil'd  wretch 
Charg'd  with  this  great  offence  ? 

THESEUS. 

Whoe'er  receives 
Each  base  invader  of  the  marriage  bed. 
And  with  the  wicked  man  delights  to  dwell. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

What  wounds  my  soul,  and  from  these  eyes  extorts 
The  tear,  is  your  believing  me  so  wicked. 

THESEUS. 

There  was  a  proper  season  for  these  groans 
And  all  thy  forethought,  when  thou  to  dishonour 
The  Consort  of  thy  Father  didst  presume. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

O  mansions,  would  to  Heaven  that  ye  a  voice 
Could  utter,  and  your  testimony  give, 
Whether  I  have  transgress'd. 

THESEUS. 

Hast  thou  recourse 
To  witnesses  who  lack  the  power  of  speech? 
Beyond  all  words  this  deed  thy  guilt  displays. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  36g 

HIPFOLVrUS. 

tn  such  position  as  to  view  my  soul 

0  could  I  standi  that  I  might  cease  to  weep 
For  the  calamities  I  now  endure ! 

THESEUS. 

Thou  thine  own  merits  hast  much  more  been  wont 
To  reverence,  than  with  pious  awe  to  treat 
Thy  parents  as  thy  duty  doth  enjoin, 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

•  U  nhappy  Mother  !  wretched  Son  !  avert 
The  curse  which  on  a  spurious  race  attends, 
From  those  who  share  my  friendship^  righteous  Gods  i 

THESEUS. 

Will  ye  not  drag  him  from  my  sight,  ye  slaves  ? 
Did  you  not  hear  how  I  long  since  decreed 
He  shall  be  banish'd  ! 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

They  should  rue  it  soon. 
If  they  presumed  to  touch  me.  But  yourself 
May  from  these  realms  expel  me  if  you  list, 

THESEUS. 

If  thou  obey  not  these  commands,  I  will : 
For  I  feel  no  compassion  for  thy  exile, 

lExit  THESEUS, 
HIPPOLYTUS. 

The  sentence  is,  it  seems,  already  pass'd; 
Wretch  that  I  am  !  My  doom  indeed  I  know^ 
Yet  know  not  in  what  language  to  express 
The  pangs  I  feel.— O  thou  to  me  most  dear 
Of  all  the  Gods,  Latona's  virgin  Daughter, 
Who  dwell'st  with  me,  companion  of  the  chase, 
Far  from  illustrious  Athens  let  us  fly ; 

1  to  that  city  and  Erectheus'  land 

How  bid  farewell.'  ■    -O  thou  Troezenian  realm. 
Fraught  with  each  varied  pleasure  youth  admires. 
Adieu :  I  see  thee  now  for  the  last  time. 
And  these  last  parting  words  to  the^  address, 

YOU  I,  B  B 


370  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Come,  O  ye  youths,  my  comrades,  hither  come. 
Speak  kindly  to  me  now,  and  till  we  reach 
The  frontiers  of  this  country,  on  my  steps 
Attend.     For  ye  shall  ne'er  behold  a  man 
More  chaste,  tho'  such  I  seem  not  to  my  Sire. 

{Exit  HIPPOLYTUi. 
CHORUS.  ^      , 

ODE.  L^-    ' 

1. 1. 

When  I  reflect  on  Heaven's  just  sway. 

Each  anxious  thought  is  driven  away; 
But,  ah!  too  soon,  hope's  flattering  prospect  ends. 
And  in  this  harrass'd  soul  despair  succeeds; 

When  I  compare  with  human  deeds. 
What  fate  those  deeds  attends. 

At  each  various  period  changing, 

Form'd  upon  no  settled  plan. 

In  a  maze  of  errors  ranging, 

Veers  the  precarious  life  of  man. 

I.  2. 

May  the  kind  Gods'  paternal  care. 
Attentive  to  their  votary's  prayer. 

Grant  unallay'd  prosperity  and  wealth. 

Let  me  enjoy,  withbut  conspicuous  fame, 
A  charac^ter  unstain'd  by  shame. 
With  mental  ease  and  health : 
Thus  exempt  from  wrinkled  sorrow. 
Would  I  ape  the  circling  mode. 
Alter  my  conduct  with  the  morrow, 
And  snatch  each  pleasure  as  it  flow'd. 

II.  1. 

Now  I  a  heart  no  longer  pure 
Against  the  shocks  of  fortune  can  secure. 
But  feel  at  length  e'en  hope  itself  expire : 
Since  from  the  land  we  see  that  star  whose  light. 

On  Athens  shone  serenely  bright. 
Kemov'd  by  Theseus'  ire. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  371 

Lament^  thick  scattered  on  the  shore,  ye  sands. 
Where  Troezene's  city  stands. 
And  steep  mountains,  which  ascending 
With  thy  hounds  to  trace  the  prey. 
Thou,  Hippolytus,  attending 
Dictynna,  the  swift  hind  didst  slay. 

II.  2. 
No  longer  the  Hennetian  steeds 

Yok'd  to  thy  chariot,  o^er  yon  sacred  mead» 

Around  the  ring,  wilt  thou  expertly  guide. 

The  muse,  whose  lyre  is  doom'd  to  sound  no  more. 
Shall  the'  paternal  house  deplore 
Bereft  of  thee  its  pride. 

For  Dian's  haunts  beneath  th'  embowering  shade. 
Now  no  hand  the  wreath  will  braid* 
Thou  art  from  this  region  banish'd. 
Hence  is  Hymen's  torch  decay 'd : 
All  prospects  of  thy  love  are  vanished. 
The  rivalry  of  many  a  maid. 

III. 
By  thy  calamity  inspir'd 
With  plaintive  strains,  will  I  bewail  thy  fete, 
O  wretched  Mother,  who  in  vain 
The  throes  of  childbirth  didst  sustain. 

I  with  indignant  hate 
Against  the  God&  themselves  are  fir*d. 
Ah,  gentle  Graces,  smiling  at  his*  birth, 
Could  not  you  screen  by  your  benignant  power 
Your  guiltless  votary,  in  an  evil  hour 
Sentenced  to  wander  far  from  his  paternal  earth  ? 

The  servant  of  Hippolytus,  with  looks 
Which  witness  grief,  I  see  in  haste  approaclji. 

l  v.  • 
MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

MESS^ENOER. 

y«  matrons,  whither  shall  1  speed  my  course 


573  fetPPOLYTUS. 

To  find  the  royal  Theseus-?  if  ye  knoW> 
Inform  me ;  is  the  monarch  here  within  ? 

CHORUS. 

Forth  from  the  palace  he  in  person  comes. 
THESEUS,  MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

MESSENGER. 
O  Theseus,  the  intelligence  I  bring 
Deserves  the  serious  thoughts  of  you,  and  all 
The  citizens  who,  or  in  Athens,  dwell. 
Or  on  the  borders  of  Trcezene's  land. 

THESEUS. 

What  mean'st  thou  ?  hath  some  recent  woe  befalktt 
These  (27)  two  adjacent  cities  f 

MESSENGER. 

In  one  word. 

To  sum  up  all,  Hippolytus  is  dead ; 
For  he  but  for  a  moment  views  the  sun. 

THESEUS. 

Say,  by  what  hostile  arm  the  miscreant  fell. 
Did  any  one,  whose  Wife  with  brutal  force. 
As  late  his  Father's,  he  defil'd,  assail  him  ? 

MESSENGER. 

The  fiery  coursers  who  his  chariot  drew 
Destroy*d  him,  and  the  curses  you  addressed 
To  the  stern  ruler  of  the  deep,  your  Sire, 
Against  your  Son. 

THESEUS. 

Thanks,  O  ye  righteous  Gods, 
Now,  (28)  Neptune,  hast  thou  prov'd  thyself  my  Fatlwfr^ 
Since  thou  my  imprecations  hast  fulfilled. 


(27)  Troefeene,  which  is  ki  the  Peloponesus,,  and  situated  in  the  es» 
tremity  of  the  province  of  Argos,  is  separated  by  the  bay  of  Saron  from 
Athens,  which  lies  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  m^  continent  of  Greece* 

(28)  Apollodorus,  L.  3.  r.  7,  leaves  it  equally  dubious  witli  Euripides^ 
whether  the  God  Neptune,  or  ^geus  the  husband  of  .Sthra,  wjiis  tlit  ^ 
real  Father  of  Theseus. 


•-.if 


HIPPOLYTUS.  375 

Inform  tiie  how  he  perish'd,  how  the  sword 

Of  Justice  smote  the  villain  who  hath  wrong'd  me? 

MESSENGER. 

We,  near  the  beach,  oft  dash'd  by  the  hoarse  wayec 
Of  ocean,  smoothMhis  generous  coursers'  maiiesj  (29) 
Yet  weeping.     For  a  messenger  arriv'd 
With  tidings^  that  Hippolytus  tio  more 
Would  to  this  realm  be  sufFer'd  to  return, 
Senteuc'd  by  you  to  miserable  exile. 
But>  to  confirm  this  piteous  tale,  soon  came 
The  banish'd  Prince,  and  join'd  us  on  the  strand, 
A  numerous  groupe  of  comrades  on  his  steps 
Attended  :  after  a  long  pause,  he  said. 
Ceasing  his  plaints ;  *^  why  still  should  I  lament 
'^  My  doom,  my  Father's  word  must  be  obeyed : 
*'  Those  steeds,  ye  servants,  hArness  to  the  car  ; 
*'  Troezene  is  no  longer  my  abod^." 
Soon  as  we  heard,  all  hasten'd :  these  commands 
Scarce  was  there  time  to  issue,  when  we  brought 
The  ready  coursers  harness'd  to  their  Lord  : 
Mounting  his  chariot  then  the  reins  he  seiz'd, 
When  he  his  feet  had  in  strong  (30)  buskins  clad : 

(29)  'f  It  by  no  meai)s.  surprises  me  tliAt  tiie  long  account  of  Hippo* 
'*  lytus'  deatii,  even  ip  Racine's  Tragedy,  set  off  9s  it  is  with  a  great 
^  variety  of  ornaments,,  seems  tedious  t^'vome  of  the  best  critics  of 
*'  France.  The  elaborate  remarjks  of  M«  A.  Racine,  in  the  Memoirs  of 
<^  the  Academy  of  Inscriptions^  Tom.  8«  p*  311,  are  extremdy  worthy 
*^  of  being  perused.**  Valkemasr. 

(30).  This  construction  of  the  word  u^Uuarti  is  objected  to  by  Val« 
Venaer  and  Dr.  Musgrave,on  the  authority  of  Eustathios  on  Homer's  Iliad, 
L.  S.  V.  728,  where  this  passage  of  Euripidea  is  cited,  and  afi/iM  are 
supposed  to  be  the  js^nicircular  projections  on  each  side  of  the  chariot, 
on  which  the  charioteer  fixed  his  feet :  but  Henty  Stephens,  in  his  Greek 
Thesaurus,  confirms  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  word  u^hcu  intiiis 
place,  by  the  citation  of  It,  in  the  Etymologiciim  Magnum.  Reiskius 
does  not  dissent  from  this  interpretation,  but  objects  to  the  epithet 
mj7wriVj  and  proposes  the  choice  of  three  others.  Dr.  Musgrave  proposes 
(trais  iff  but  seems  to  have\vavered,  and  been  undetermmed  both  as  to 
the  substantive  and  adjective,  his  Latin  version  b^ing  vihbus  ocreis ;  but 
the  very  words  twrm;  etfiv^mg  stand  onchaUeni^d  in  the  Bacchanalian;, 
V.  Xl3%  ed.  Barnes,  where  it  is  imitossible  to  interprat  the  exprct- 
,sion  in  any  other  sense  than  sandaU  or  buskins.  ' 


374  HIPPOLYTUS. 

But  first  with  hands  outspread  invok'd  the  Grods, 

And  cried ;  O  righteous  Jove,  here  end  my  Ufe, 

''  If  I  have  sinn'd :  but  let  my  Father  know 

(31)  **  How  much  he  wrongs  us,  whether  we  expire^ 

"  Or  still  behold  the  light/'     With  lifted  thong 

The  rapid  coursers  onward  then  he  drove; 

We  servants  close  behind  our  master'3  car 

Follow'd  along  {3*2,)  the  Epidaurian  road 

Which  leads  direct  to  Argos.     But  at  length, 

Passujg  the  limits  of  this  realm,  we  entet'd 

A  wilderness  adjoining  to  the  coast 

Of  the  Saronian  deep :  a  dreadful  sound 

Was  from  the  inmost  caverns  of  the  earth 

Sent  forth,  like  Joye*s  own  thunder,  while  the  steeds 

Astonish'd,  with  their  heads  and  ears  erect 

Twai  ds  Heaven,  stopp'd  short.  An  instant  terror  seiz'd 

On  all  of  us ;  we  wondered  whence  the  sound 

Could  i.^sue,  till  at  length,  as  on  the  beach 

We  look'd,  a  mighty  wave  we  saw,  which  reached  ^33) 

(51)  '^  The  Scholiast  observes,  that  this  verse  is  mariced  with  die  letter 
'<  X,  which  is  afiii^ed  to  it  as  a  sign  of  disapprobation  by  the  Granumi* 
*'  rians,  on  account  of  the  singular  number  being  changed  into  the  phifid* 
<<  For  when  the  Athenians  waged  war  against  Chios,  they  weie  so  ex* 
**  tremely  violent  in  their  hatred  of  its  inhabitants,  that  they  marked 
**  counterfeit  coin,  and  whatever  they'  disliked,  with  a  X,  the  initial 
^  letter  of  the  Greek  word  iCwy,  to  express  their  contempt      Barnbs. 

(32)  I  have  followed  Valkena^  in  reading  K'MnJan^fiar,  for  which  he 
cites  the  authority  of  l^lorentine  and  Parisian  manuscripts,  f^idaniia 
being,  as  he  observes,  situated  in  the  road  from  Troezene  to  Argos. 

(33)  "  Euripides  has  copied  this  expression  of  Kv^a*  y^coffi  pfi^w  from 
"  Homer,  whose  Discotd,  .  .  ^  .. 

^'  Parva  metu  primo,  mox  sese  attollit  in  auras, 
«  — —......  et  caput  inter  nubila  condit 

"  m  the  Iliad,  L.  4.  v.  443. 

**  Small  at  her  birth,  but  rising  every  hour, 

"  While  scarce  the  skies  her  horrid  head  can  bound, 

«  She  stalks  on  £artfa,*  ...  p^pB, 

Valceitabr* 


HIPPOLYTUS.  375 

The  skies,  and  from  our  view  conceaPd  the  cliffs 

Of  Sciron,  the  whole  isthmus  cover'd  o'er. 

And  ^sculapius'  rofk,  then  to  a  size 

The  most  enormous  swollen,  and  pouring  forth 

With  loud  explosion  foam  on  every  side, 

The  tide  impell'd  it  onward  to  the  coast 

Where  stood  the  harness'd  steeds ;   amid  the  storm 

And  whirlwind's  rage,  the  wave  disgorg'd  a  Bull, 

Ferocious  monster,  with  who$e  bellowing^  fiU'd^ 

All  earth  resounded  horribly  :   our  eyes 

Scarce  could  endure  the  sight.     With  panic  fear 

The  steeds  were  seiz'd  that  instant;   but  meantime 

Their  Lord,  who  to  the  managing  them  long 

Had  been  inur'd,  caught  up  with  both  his  hand^ 

The  reins,  and  drew  tliem  tight,   as  the  rude  oajr 

A  sailor  plies ;  exerting  all  his  strength. 

Then  backward  lean'd,  and  twisted  them  around 

His  body :  but  the  raging  coursers  gnash'd 

Their  steely  curbs,  and  scour'd  along  the  field 

Regardless  of  the  hand  that  steer'd  their  couxse^ 

Or  rein  or  polish'd  car.     Along  the  plain. 

If  he  attempted  .their  career  to  guide. 

The  Ball  in  front  appeared,  to  turq  them  back^ 

And  e'en  to  madness  scar'd:  hul  if  they  ran  < 

Close  to  tUe  shelying  rock^  with  frantic  rage, 

He,  silently  apprpacjbing,  foUow'd  hard 

Behind  the  chariot;  'gainst  a  rugged  cliff. 

Till  he  the  wheel  directing,   had  p'erthrown 

The  vehicle.     'Twas  dire  confusion  all : 

Upward  the  spokes  and  shiver'd  axle  flew^ 

The  hapless  youth  entangled  in  the  reins, 

Confin'd  by  an  inextricable  bond. 

Was  dragg'd  along;  against  the  rotck  bis  head 

With  violen.ce  was  dash'd,  and  his  whole  body 

Receiv'd  full  many  a  wound.     These  horfid  words 

He  utter'd  with  a  shriek ;  **  Stop,  O  my  steeds, 

'^  Nor  kill  the  master  in  whose  sialk  ye  fed  !    .  . 


376  HIPPOLYTUS. 

*'  O  dreadful  imprecations  of  my  Sire ! 
'*  Who  is  at  hand  to  save  a  virtuous  man  f*' 
Tho'  many  wish'd  to  rescue  him,  too  late 
We  came.    But  from  the  broken  reins  releas*d. 
At  length,  1  know  not  by  what  means,  he  fell^ 
In  a  small  portion  yet  the  breath  of  life 
Retaining.    But  the  horses,  from  all  eyes. 
And  that  accursed  monster,  were  concealed 
Among  the  mountains,  where,  I  cannot  tell, 
Tho'  I  indeed,  O  King,  am  in  your  house 
A  seiTant,  yet  I  never  can  be  brought 
To  think  your  Son  was  with  such  guilt  defil'd, 
Tho*  the  whole  race  of  women  should  expire 
Suspended  in  the  noose,  and  every  pine 
On  Ida's  summit  were  with  letters  filPd  ; 
So  well  am  I  cpnvinc'd  that  he  was  virtuous, 

CHORUS, 

The  measure  of  our  recent  woes  is  full : 
No  means,  alas,  are  left  for  us  to  'scape 
The  sentence  of  unalterable  fate, 

THESEUS, 

From  hatred  to  the  man  who  hath  endur'd 
These  sufferings,  I  with  pleasure  heard  thy  tale ; 
But  now  thro*  a  just  reverence  for  the  Gods, 
And  for  that  wretch,  because  he  was  my  Son, 
I  from  his  woes^  nor  joy,  nor  sorrow  feel.  (34) 

(34)  The  close  resemblance  between  this  line  and  the  following  pUSMg^ 
in  Lycophron, 

Km  iaH^*  rmg  ^fsi,  xm  HhfJt-nos 
App«y.     V,  117. 

tiiere  spoken  of  Proteus  king  of  Egypt,  on  hearing  of  his  two  wicked 
Sons  Polygonus  and  Telegonus,  who  bad  infested  T^ce,  being  slain  by 
Hercules,  seems  to  have  struck  Barnes  (who  refers  to  the  history,  without 
mentioiniBg  tlie  Author  by  whom  it  is  related),  and  has  not  passed  unno<^ 
ticed  by  the  commentators  on  Lycophron*  llie  Scholia  of  Tzetzes  call 
the  elder  Son  of  Proteus,  Tmolus :  but  it  appears  from  Apollodomsi  who 
has  been  followed  by  Ai^bisbop  Potter,  that  his  name  was  Polygonm* 


HIPPOLYTUS.  577 

MESSENGER* 

But  whither  must  we  bear  the  dying  youth, 
To  gratify  your  wish,  or  how  proceed? 
Consider  well :  but  if  you  would  adopt 
My  cour^sels,  you  with  harshness  would  not  treat 
Your  hapless  Son. 

THESEUS. 
The  miscreant  hither  bring'; 
That  I,  when  face  to  face  I  shall  behold 
Him  who  denies  that  he  my  nuptial  bed 
Polluted^  may  convict  him  by  my  words. 
And  these,  calamities  the  Gods  inflict. 

lExit  MESBENQEft-. 
CHORUS.  V     * 

To  yours,  O  Venus,  and  your  Son's  control. 
Whose  glittering  pinions  speed  his  flight, 
The  Gods  incline  their  stubborn  soul. 
And  mortals  yielding  to  resistless  might. 

For,  o*er  land,  and  stormy  main. 

Love,  is  borne,  who  can  restrain 
By  more  than  magic  art 

Each  furious  impulse  of  the  heart: 

Savage  whelps  on  mountains  bred. 

Monsters  in  the  ocean  fed. 
All  who  on  earth  behold  the  solar  ray. 

And  man,  bis  mild  behests  obey* 

For  you,  O  Venus,  you  alone 

Sit  on  an  unrivallM  throne, 

By  each  duteous  votary  feared. 

As  a  mighty  Queen  rever'd. 

DIANA,  THESEUS,  CHORUS. 

DIANA. 

Thee,  sprung  from  noble  ^geus,  I  command 

Canterus  observes,  tbat  Phaedo,  in  Plato,  says  that  he  found  himself  ia 
the  same  equal  suspence,  between  joy  and  grief,  on  xeceiving  the  te* 
eomit  of  the  death  of  Socrates. 


37S  HIPPOLYTUS. 

To  listen^  for  to  thee  Diana  speaks. 

The  Daughter  of  Latona.    Why,  O  Theseus, 

Do  these  disastrous  tidings  fill  thy  heart 

With  pleasure,  when  unjustly  thou  hast  slain 

Thy  Son,  the  false  assertions  of  thy  Consort 

On  no  clear  proof  believing?  yet  too  clear 

Is  the  atrocious  guilt  thou  hast  incurr'd. 

Cover'd  with  shame,  why  hid'st  thou  not  thy  head 

In  gloomy  Tartarus,  in  the  realms  beneath ; 

Or,  this  abhoir'd  pollution  to  escape, 

On  active  wings  why  mount'st  thou  not  the  skies? 

In  the  society  of  virtuous  men 

Thou  canst  not  pass  the  remnant  of  thy  life. 

Hear  me,  O  Theseus,  while  I  state  the  ills 

In  which  thou  art  involved :  tho'  now  to  thee 

It  can  avail  no  longer,  thy  regret 

Will  1  excite.    The  purposes  I  came  for 

Are  these;   to  shew  that  to  thy  Son  belongs 

An  upright  heart,  how  to  preserve  his  fame 

His  life  he  loses,   and  that  frantjc  rage 

Thy  Consort  seiz'd,  whose  conduct  hath  in  part 

Been  generous :  for,  with  lawless  passion  stung. 

By  that  pernicious  Goddess,  whom  myself. 

And  all  to  whom  virginity  is  dear. 

Peculiarly  abhor,  she  lov'd  thy  Son, 

And  while  she  strove  by  reason  to  o'ercome 

Th'  assaults  of  Venus,    unconsentkig  fell 

By  those  vile  stratagems  her  Nurse  devised. 

Who  to  thy  Son  the  Queen's  disease  reveard 

Under  the  aweful  sanction  of  an  oath ; 

But  he,  by  justice  rendered  strong,  complied  not 

With  her  solicitations,  yet  no  wrongs 

Which  he  from  thee  experienc'd,  could  provoke 

The  pious  youth  to  violate  that  faith 

Which  he  had  sworn  to.     She  meanwhile alarm'd. 

Lest  to  his  Father  he  her  guilt  should  prove. 

Wrote  that  deceitful  letter,  on  thy  soul 


HIPPOLYTUS.  579 

Gaining  too  prompt  a  credence,  and  thy  Son 
Hath  by  her  baleful  artifice  destroy *d« 

THESEUS- 

Ah  me ! 

DIANA. 

Doth  what  I  have  already  spoken^ 
O  Theseus,  wound  thee  ?  to  the  sequel  lend 
A  patient  ear,  and  thou  shalt  find  just  cause 
To  wail  yet  more.    Thou  know'st  thy  Sire  engaged 
That  thy  petitions  thrice  he  would  fulfill ; 
And  one  of  these,  O  thou  most  impious  man. 
Which  might  have  slain  some  foe,  hast  thou  employed 
In  the  destruction  of  thy  Son.    Thy  Father, 
Who  rules  the  ocean,  tho*  to  thee  a  friend. 
Gave  what  he  promis'd,  by  strict  honor  bound. 
But  thou  to  him,  as  well  as  me,  must  seem 
Devoid  of  worth,  who  waiting  for  no  oath 
To  be  administered,  nor  till  the  Seers 
Could  utter  a  response,  or  length  of  time 
Enable  thee  to  search  into  the  truth. 
Thy  curses  hast  too  hastily  pour'd  forth 
Against  thy  Son,  and  slain  him. 

THESEUS. 

Aweful  Queen, 
Would  I  weVe  dead ! 

DIANA. 

Thou  hast  committed  crime* 
Most  horrid  ;  but  may'st  haply  still  obtain 
Heaven's  gracious  pardon  :  since  at  the  behest 
Of  Venus  these  calamitous  events 
Took  place  to  satiate  her  relentless  ire. 
For  'tis  a  law  among  the  Gods,  that  none 
Shall  thwart  (35)  another's  will ;  we  all  renounce 
Such  interference.     Else  be  thou  assur'd 
Had  I  not  dreaded  Jove,  into  such  shame 

(35)  Thus,  according  to  Ovid,  Jtipiter  being  unable  to  restore  the  eye* 
fight  of  Tiresias,  which  Juno  had  deprived  him  of,  gave  him  the  faculty  of 


580  HIPPOLYTUS. 

I  never  would  have  falPn,  nor  suffer^  him 
Whom  I  hold  dearest  of  the  human  race. 
To  perish.     As  for  thy  offence,  thou  first 
By  ignorance,  from  malice  art  absolved ; 
Again,  thy  Consort,  the  deceas'd,  us'd  words 
Of  strong  persuasion  to  mislead  thy  soul. 
Now  by  the  mighty  conflux  of  these  woes 
Thou  chiefly  art  o'erwhelm'd  :  but  I  too  grieve. 
For  in  a  good  man's  death  the  righteous  Gods 
Rejoice  not:  with  their  children  and  their  house, 
Tho'  we  the  wicked  utterly  destroy. 

HIPPOLYTUS,  DIANA,  THESEUS,  CHORU& 

CHORUS. 

Here  comes  the  hapless  youth,  his  graceful  frame 

And  auburn  locks  disfigiir'd.     Wretched  house! 

What  twofold  woes,  thro*  Heaven's  supreme  behest^ 

Invade  this  family ! 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

How  am  I  rent. 
Ah  me,  thro'  those  unrighteous  vows  pronouac'd 
By  an  unrighteous  Father !  thro'  my  head 
Shoot  dreadful  pangs,  and  strong  convulsions  rend. 
My  tortur'd  brain.     Ah  me  !  lay  down  to  rest 
This  shatter'd  body  !  ye  accursed  steeds, 
Tho*  fed  with  my  own  hand,  have  ye  destroy*d 
And  slain  your  master.    Ah,  I  by  the  Gods 
Entreat  you,  softly  handle,  O  my  friends. 
This  wounded  frame.    Who  stands  there  on  my  right? 
Carefully  raise  me  up,  and  bear  along 
With  even  step  a  wretch  who  hath  been  curs'd 
By  his  mistaken  Sire.     Jove,  righteous  Jove, 

«.  *«• 

foreteOiDg  future  events  to  make  him  amends. 

*  Neque  enisi  licet  irrita  cuiqnam 
«  Facta  Dei  fecisse  Deo.      ^    Met  L.  iu.  v.  335, 

**  For  so  it  is  in  Heaven  decreed 
•  That  no  one  God  repeal  another's  deed.*       Addisov* 


tttPPOLYTUS.  wi 

l5ehold*.st  thou  this  ?  I  who  devoutly  worshiped 

The  Gods,  and  all  the  human  race  excell'd 

In  chastity,  deprived  of  life  am  pluug'd 

Into  the  yawning  subterraneous  realms 

Of  Orcus,     Sure  I  exercis'd  in  vain 

Each  pious  toil  to  benefit  mankind. 

My  pangs  return  afresh.     Let  loose  your  hold. 

Come,  Death,  thou  bestof  medicines(36).  Kill  me,  kill  meSi 

O  for  a  sword  to  pierce  my  heart,  and  close 

In  endless  slumbers  this  detested  life. 

How  inauspicious  was  my  Father*s  curse ! 

That  lingering  vengeance  which  pursues  the  guilt 

By  my  (37)  Progenitors,  in  antient  days, 

Committed,  and  my  kindred  who  are  stain'd 

With  recent  murders,  terminate  in  me, 

Ho  longer  now  suspended.     O  ye  Gods^ 

Why  do  ye  punish  me  who  had  no  share 

In  those  enormities  ?  but  in  what  words 

Can  I  express  myself,  or  how  escape  • 

From  the  oppressive  numbness  which  weighs  down 

My  senses?  would  to  Heaven,  the  Fates  who  haiin} 

Pluto's  abode,  the  realm  of  antient  night. 

Would  lay  me  down  in  everlasting  sleep ! 

DIANA. 

With  what  calamity,  O  hapless  Youth, 
Hast  thou  been  yok'd !  it  is  thy  generous  soul 
Which  hath  destroyed  thee. 

(36)  Upon  examining  several  of  tiic  different  Latin  veirnons^  I  find 
that  published  under  the  name  of  Dorotheus  CamiUus,  and  tbose  of  Me* 
lancthon  and  Rataleer,  all  three  e(>ucur  with  me  in  lygitewwg  .i^pwMa4< 
tiKkult  as  the  imperative  mood. 

(37)  The  concunence  of  Reiskius,  Heath,  YsJkeqfifii^  fmd  Musgrave, 
has  induced  me  to  ti-anspose  the  two  lines  of 

MitttipcMuy  Ti  cvyfaiuff 

the  latter  of  which  is  placed  first  by  Barnes  and^the  earlier  editors:  by 
'  ♦*  Pngenitov;^^  are  generally  understood  Tantalus  and  Pelops,  from  whom 
deac^ided  Pittheus,  JEthra,  Tlieseus,  Hippolytus;  and  by  '.<  Kutdni^ 
Atrens  and  "niy^atei^  -with  peffaaps  a  glance  At  Theseus.*  murder  oC  the 
Sotttof  Pallas. 


-/ 


582  HBPPOLYTUS; 

HIPPOLYTCS. 

From  celestial  lips 
How  doth  a  fragrant  odor  breathe  around ! 
Amid  my  sufferings  thee  did  I  porceive. 
The  pangs  I  feel  were  instantly  assuag'd. 
Diana  sure  is  here. 

DIANA. 

Beside  thee  stands 
Thy  favourite  Goddess. 

mPPOLYTUS. 

Dost  thou  see  my  woes, 
O  thou  whom  I  adore  i 

DIANA. 

These  eyes  behold 
What  thou  endur'st :  but  they  no  (38)  tear  must  shed. 

mPPOLYTUS. 

Thy  faithful  comrade  in  the  silvan  chase 
Thy  votary  is  no  more. 

DIANA, 

Alas !  no  more ! 
Yet  e*en  in  deiith  to  me  thou  still  art  (39)  dear. 

%•  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Nor  he  who  drove  thy  fiery  steeds,  and  watch'd 
Thy  images. 

(SB)  Ovid,  speaking  of  Apollo  when  be  had  slam  Coronist 

Tarn  Tero  gemitns  (neqne  enim  celestia  tai^ 

Ore  decet  lachrymis)  alto  de  corde  petitos 

Edidit  Met  h,  u.  v.  621, 

**  With  sighs  and  groans  her  obsequies  he  kept, 

^  And,  if  a  God  cotild  weep,  the  God  had  wept?       Addisoit. 
«ttd  ofCeres  bewuKng  the  loss  of  her  Daughter  Proserpine, 

Dfadt,  &  Qt  laehrymx  (neque  enim  laduymure  Deorom  est) 
Deddit  in  tepidos  locida  gntta  simis.  Fast  L.  !▼.  y.  HU 

She  spoke,  and  in  the  semblance  of  a  tear, 

(For  by  no  tears  are  giiefs  of  Gods  exprest) 

From  the  pore  fount  of  those  eelestial  eyes 

Stole  lucid  drops  adown  her  heaving  breast 
Vbgfl  however,  in  the  first  book  of  his  ^Eneids,  introduces  Venus,  and,  in 
tiie  tenth,  Hercules,  after  his  admission  among  the  Gods,  as  shedding  teait. 
<39)  Ufoff^^ncf  mstead  of  hcrfttSlfMc,  in  Valkenaer  and  Mvigravey  on  tiie 
authority  cf  feveral  autient  naiuiscrq^ts. 


HIPPOLYTUS.  88S 

DIANA. 

These  stratagems,  by  Venus 
From  whom  all  mischief  takes  its  rise,  were  plann'd. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Too  well  I  know  the  Goddess  who  destroyed  me. 

DIANA. 

For  her  neglected  homage  much  enrag'd 
Against  thee,  to  the  chaste  a  constant  foe. 

fflPPOLYTUS. 

Us  three  I  find  her  hatred  hath  undone. 

DIANA. 

Thy  Father,  Thou,  and  his  unhappy  Wife 
Complete  that  number. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

I  bewail  my  Sire. 

DIANA. 

Him  by  her  arts  that  Goddess  hath  misled. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

To  you,  my  Father,  this  event  hath  proved 
A  source  of  woes  abundant. 

THESEUS. 

O  my  Son, 
I  perish,  and  in  life  have  now  no  joy* 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Yet  more  for  you^  who  have  been  thus  deluded. 
Than  for  myself,  I  grieve. 

THESEUS. 

My  Son,  I  gladly 
Would  die  to  save  thee. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Fatal  gifts  of  Neptune 
Your  Father. 

THESEUS. 
Now  most  earnestly  I  wish 
These  lips  had  never  utter'd  such  a  prayer. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

What  then  i  you  would  have  slain  me,  such  your  wrath. 


V 


884  filPPOLYtUS. 

T)IESEUS. 

Because  I  by  the  Gods  was  then  depriv'tt 
Of  uhderstanding. 

HIPt»OLYtUS. 
O  that  in  retnrn 
Mankind  could  with  their  curses  blast  the  Gods? 

DIANA. 

Be  pacified  :  for  in  earth's  darksome  caves. 
The  rage  of  Venus  who  on  thee  hath  wreak'd 
Such  horrors  for  thy  pure  and  virtuous  soul 
I  will  not  suffer  unaton'd  to  rest. 
For  in  requital,  my  vindictive  hand 
With  these  inevitable  darts  shall  smite. 

(40)  The  dearest  of  her  votaries.     Bat  on  thee 
These  sufferings  to  reward  will  I  bestow 

The  greatest  honors  in  Troezene's  realm : 

(41)  For  to  thy  shade,  ere  jocund  Hymen  wavtf    '    ■  ' 
The  kindled  torch,  each  nymph  her  tresses  shora 
Shall  dedicate,  and  with  abundant  tears 

For  a  long  season  thy  decease  bewail. 

In  their  harmonious  ditties  the  chaste  choir 

(40)  '<  The  Scholiast  calls  those  delkions  -who  thkik  that  Adonis  is  h^ri 
^  meant,  when  he  was  not  slaiu  by  the  shafts  of  Diana,  but  the  jealovaiF 
'*  of  Mars,  wha  sent  a  wild  Boar  to  destrpy  him.  Bot,  with  pennisao* 
^  of  the  Scholiast,  I  contend  this  ought  to  be  referred  to  Adonis:  fyr  89 
^  Pet.  Victorius  observes,  in  his  various  readin^^  L.  iv.  c.  17  ^  '^  ihou|^ 
**  he  was  slain  by  the  Boar,  Mars  being  the  author  6f  faiB  deadi,  VmAm 
**  might  lay  claim  to  this  exploit,  because  Adonis  lost  his  life  in  her  Ar 
^  vourite  pursuit  of  hunting.''  But  what  puts  the  matter  out  of  all'  doabi 
"  k,  that  ApoUodorus  himself,.  L.  iiiw  c.  13.  §  4.  bears  witness,,  that 
**  Adonis  was  slain  by  Diana ;  his  words  are  these;  ^  Adonis,  yet  a  boy^ 
<<  through  the  anger  of  Diana,  perished  as  he  was  hunting  by  ft  wound 
**'  which  he  received  from  a  Boar."  Muretus  made  this  observation  be* 
«'  lore  me^  Var.  Lect.  L.  5,  c,  7.**    Barnes. 

(41)  "  The  Troezenians  worshipped  Hippolytus  with  ainniversaiy  sacred^ 
''  rites  as  a  Hero,  supposmg  him  borne  to  the  starry  heavens  by  the  name 
^  of  the  Charioteer:  they  honoured  him  also  %ith  a  temple ;  which  Pan* 
<<  sanias,  L.  2.  e.  33,  describes  as  situated  in  a  most  beautiful  groye,  to<f 
**  records  this  circumstance  of  the  Virgins,  previous  to  their  marriage^ 
*'  cutting  off  their  hair,  and  depositing  it  fbr  a  votive  ^t^  as  tbe  Poet 
'' here  mentions."    Valxjbnaeb* 


HIPPOLYTUS.  385 

Of  virgins  ever  shall  record  thy  fate. 

Nor  pass  unnotic'd  Phaedra's  hapless  love. 

But,  O  thou  son  of  JEgeus,  in  those  arms 

Embrace  the  dying  youth ;  for  'gainst  thy  will 

Didst  thou  destroy  him.    When  the  Gods  ordain 

That  man  should  err,  he  cannot  disobey. 

This  counsel,  O  Hippolytus,  to  thee 

I  give ;  no  hatred  to  thy  Father  bear, 

For  well  thou  know'st  from  whence  thy  fate  arose. 

And  now  farewell !  for  I  am  not  allow'd 

To  view  unholy  corses  of  the  slain, 

Or  with  the  pangs  of  those  who  breathe  their  last 

Pollute  these  eyes  :  too  clearly  I  discern 

That  thou  art  near  the  moment  of  tliy  death. 

[Exit  Diana. 

fflPPOLYTUS. 

Farewell,  blest  Virgin,  grieve  not  thus  to  part       '' 
From  a  most  faithful  votary,  who  with  thee 
Hath  long  held  converse.    With  my  Sire  I  end 
All  strife  at  thy  behest ;  for  to  thy  words 
I  still  have  been  obedient.    Wretched  me! 
Already  thickest  darkness  overspreads 
lliese  swimming  eyes.    My  Fiather,  in  your  armg 
Receive  me,  and  support  this  sinking  frame. 

THESEUS.  4 

How,  O  my  Son,  dost  thou  increase  my  woes! 

fflPPOLYTUS. 

I  perish,  and  already  view  the  gates 
Of  yon  drear  realms  beneath. 

THESEUS. 

But  wilt  thou  leave 
My  Soul  polluted  ? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

No,  from  the  foul  crime 
You  I  absolve. 

THESEUS. 

What  said'st  thou  f  Shall  the  staia 

VOL.   I.  C  C 


386  HIPPOLYTUS. 

Of  having  shed  thy  blood  no  longer  rest 
On  me  thy  murderer  ? 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Let  Diana  witness^ 
Who  with  her  shafts  subdues  the  savage  brood. 

THESEUS, 

How  generous  is  this  treatment  of  thy  Sire, 
My  dearest  Son ! 

HIPPOLYTUS, 

Farewell !  a  long  adieu 
I  bid  to  you,  my  Father, 

THESEUS. 

Ah,  how  pious. 
How  virtuous  is  thy  soul ! 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

Implore  the  Gods 
That  all  your  race  legitimate  may  tread 
In  the  same  path. 

THESEUS. 

Desert  me  not,  my  Son ; 

Take  courage. 

HIPPOLYTUS. 

It  is  now,  alas !  too  late. 
For,  O  my  Sire,  I  die.    Make  no  delay, 
But^jwith  this  garment  cover  o'^er  my  face.      (He  dies.) 

THESEUS, 

Minerva's  fortress,  thou  Athenian  realm, 
Of  what  a  virtuous  Prince  art  thou  depriv'd! 
Ah,  wretched  me !  how  oft  shall  I  reflect, 
O  Venus,  on  the  ills  which  thou  hast  caus'd. 

CPORUS. 
On  our  whole  city  hath  this  public  loss 
Fallen  unforeseen.     Abundant  tears  shall  flow. 
When  bleed  the  mighty,  their  sad  history  leaves 
A  more  profound  impression  on  the  heart. 


ALCESTIS* 


n«T^of  n  tun  fMir^c  ««•  rovr*  fpy«^«fAiFi|  re  i^y>  irT*r  xoXov 
rmt  "^v^t  ixc»n)(  oimyfti.        Plato* 


c  c  2 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA* 


APOLLO. 

DEATH. 

CHORUS  OP  THE  OLD  MEN  OF  PHER7EA. 

FEMALE  ATTENDANT  OF  ALCESTIS, 

ALCESTIS. 

A  SERVANT, 

ADMETUS* 

EUMELUS. 

HERCULES. 

PHERES. 

iiCENE— THE  VESTIBULE  OF  ADMETUS'  PALACE  JJK 
PHER.EA,  A  CITY  OF  THESSALY. 


ALCESTIS. 


APOLLO. 

JHousE  of  Admetus,  underneath  thy  roof, 

I,  tho'  a  God,  have  been  reduc'd  to  share 

Th6  servile  board  :  the  guihy  cause  was  Jove, 

Who  my  lov'd  offspring  -Slsculapius  slew. 

Transpiercing  with  a  Thunderbolt  his  breast : 

Enraged  at  this  atrocious  deed,  I  smote 

The  Cyclops,  curst  artificers,  who  forg'd 

The  flames  which  Heaven's  vindictive  Father  wields; 

And  therefore  did  the  God  in  penal  wrath 

Make  me  an  abject  hireling  to  a  lord 

Of  human  race:  for  when  I  reach'd  this  land 

A  stranger's  herds  I  fed,  and  to  this  hour 

These  mansions  have  preserv'd,  because  myself 

Am  holy,  and  a  fit  asylum  (1)  found 

In  the  abode  of  Pheres*  holy  son, 

Whom  I  have  rescued  from  immediate  death. 

By  overreaching  the  relentless  Fates ; 

For  those  stern  Goddesses  to  me  have  given 

A  promise  that  Admetus  shall  escape 

Th'  impending  stroke,  if  in  his  stead  the  shades 

Receive  some  other  victim.     Having  tried 

And  canvass'd  every  friend;  his  hoary  sire. 

The  aged  mother  too,  that  gave  him  birth : 

None  but  his  Wife  he  found,  who  on  such  terms 

Consented  to  redeem  him  from  the  grave. 

Now  in  the  palace,  by  her  servants'  arms 

(l)  ETyyx,«w  nactus  eraifi,  b  the  reading  restored  by  Dr.  Musgravt 
from  all  the  Parisian  manuscripts  and  the  edition  of  Lascaris :  in  Aldus, 
Barnes,  Dr.  MoreU,  and  the  other  editions,  it  stands  iroYXjmut  erat ;  ocrt*^ 
ii  consequently  thers  understood  as  spoken  of  Uie  house. 


390  ALCESTIS. 

Sustain'd,  she  lingers  at  her  latest  gasp : 
For  it  isdestia'd  that  this  very  day 
She  shall  expire,  and  quit  the  realms  of  lights 
But  lest  pollution,  while  I  yet  remain 
Under  this  roof,  overtake  me,  thro'  constraint 
I  these  lov'd  walls  abandon  ;  for  that  Priest 
Of  souls  departed.  Death,  e'en  now  I  see 
Approaching ;  her  to  Pluto's  realms  beneath 
Will  he  conduct;  he  in  due  season  comes. 
Watching  the  hour  assigned  for  her  decease. 

(2)  DEATH,  APOLLO. 

DEATH. 

Ha !  why  art  thou,  O  Phoebus,  at  these  gates  ? 
What  errand  brings  thee  hither?  thou  repeat'st 
Thy  past  injustice,  when  thou  aim'st  to  rob 
Of  their  due  honours  the  infernal  Gods  : 
For  thee  sufficient  was  it  not  to  bar 
Admetus'  destiny,  by  treacherous  arts 
The  Fates  deceiving  ?  but  a  second  time 
Now  hast  thou  arm'd  that  hand,  the  quiver  stored 
With  pointed  shafts  still  wielding,  in  behalf 
Of  Pelias'  daughter,  tbo'  she  hath  engaged 

(2)  The  Aldus  edition,  tfao«e  printed  at  Basil,  Henry  Stephenss 
Tragediae  SelectaB  which  bear  the  date  of  1567,  and  a  4to.  with  the 
Greek  only  of  tliis  single  play,  Paris  ap.  Libert.  1619,  and  the  Latii^ 
versions  of  Cainillus  and  Mclaucthon,  give  this  personage  the  name  of 
Charon :  but  in  tlie  first  edition  of  tlie  Medea,  Hippolytas,  AlctetiB,  and 
Andromache,  by  Lascaris,  which  bears  no  date,  but  is  said  to  have  been 
printed  at  Florence  before  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  Sclio^ 
liasts,  Canterus,  Barnes,  and  the  modem  editors,  he  is  cdlled  Death,  as 
in  the  close  of  the  preceding  speech.  Servius,  in  his  notes  on  Virgil, 
says,  that  Mercury  is  here  introduced  ;  for  thus  stands  the  passage  in  the 
editions  I  have  consulted,  printed  by  Valdarfer,  in  1471,  and  by  Robert 
Stephens  in  153:?,  though  in  that  of  La  Cerda  it  is  altered  :  but  Juno,  in 
Virgil,  sends  Iris  to  cut  tlie  hair  of  the  expiring  Dido  ;  which  pffice  this 
personage  (whoever  he  be)  assumes  to  himself  in  the  close  of  the  dia- 
loj^e  before  us. 


/- 


*    •  • 


ALCESTIS,  391 

That  to  redeem  her  Lordj  she  ia  his  stead 
Will  yield  up  her  own  life. 

APOLLO. 

Be  of  good  cheer,  *      •^ 

For  I  am  just,  and  reason  is  my  guide. 

DEATH. 
If  thou  art  just,  what  means  that  hostile  how  t 

APOLLO. 

This  weapon  I  am  ever  wont  to  bear. 

DEATH. 

That  thou  with  lawless  might  this  house  may'st  aid. 

APOLLO. 

My  friend's  distress  hangs  heavy  on  my  soul. 

DEATH. 

Would'st  thou  bereave  me  of  this  second  victim  i 

APOLLO. 

From  you  the  first  I  did  not  take  away 
By  violence. 

DEATH, 

How  dwells  he  then  on  earth. 
Not  in  the  realms  beneath  ? 

APOLLO. 

He  for  his  Wife, 
Whom  to  demand  you  come,  hath  been  exchang'd* 

DEATH. 

Her  to  the  nether  world  1  will  convey. 

APOLLO. 

O  take  her,  and  depart ;  for  much  I  fear 
I  cannot  move  you— 

DEATH. 

To  slay  him  who  ought 
To  perish  i  I  for  this  am  come  prepaf'd. 

APOLLQ. 

No :  but  to  smite  the  tardy.  ^ 

PMTD. 

I  perceive 

Thy  drift. 


•   '  • 


$QZ  ALCESnS. 

APOLLO. 

And  may  Alcestis  hence  attain 
Mature  old  age? 

^  DEATH. 

This  cannut  be  allow'd  : 
Thou  know'st  I  too  am  gratified  by  homage. 

APOLLO. 

More  than  one  single  life  you  must  not  take. 

DEATH. 

When  die  the  young,  my  glories  are  incrcas'd. 

APOLLO. 

But  in  mature  old  age  if  she  expire. 
She  will  be  buried  sumptuously, 

DEATH. 

The  law 
Thou  hast  proposed,  O  Phcebus,  tends  to  serVe 
The  rich,  and  them  alone. 

APOLLO. 

What  mean  these  words  ? 
Are  you  grown  wise  ?  I  knew  not  this  before. 

DEATH. 

They  who  had  any  wealth  might  buy  me  off 
Till  they  grew  old. 

APOLLO. 

Will  you  not  therefore  grant, 
At  my  request,  this  favour  ? 

DEATfL 

By  no  means : 
Thou  know'st  my  usage. 

APOLLO. 

Hostile  to  mankind. 
And  by  the  Gods  abhorr'd. 

DEATH. 

#  Thou  canst  not  hope 

To  compass  each  exorbitant  desire. 

APOLLO. 

With  all  this  fierceness,  soon  shall  you  grow  mild ; 


ALCESTIS.  39$ 

A  man  of  such  distinguished  prowess  comes 
To  Pheres'  mansion,  by  Eurystheus  sent. 
From  Thracia*s  frozen  regions,  to  convey 
Those  furious  coursers  harness'd  to  the  car 
Of  Diomedes:  in  Admetus*  house 
With  hospitable  kindness  entertain'd. 
He  from  your  grasp  will  forcibly  redeem 
This  generous  woman  ;  and  no  thanks  from  me 
Shall  you  obtain,  yet  grant  what  I  request. 
And  still  remain  an  object  of  my  hate. 

DEATH% 
Much  hast  thou  spoken,  yet  by  many  words 
Thy  purpose  shalt  not  gain  :  to  Pluto's  realms 
This  woman  must  descend,  I  now  to  her 
Am  hastening,  the  initiatory  rites 
With  this  uplifted  falchion  to  perform : 
For  the}^  whose  hair  is  sever'd  by  its  blade 
Are  sacred  to  the  Gods  of  Hell  beneath.  {^ExeufU. 

CHORUS. 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

What  means  this  general  silence  at  the  gate? 
And  from  within  Admetus'  royal  house, 
Why  sounds  no  voice  ? 

SEMICHORUS    11. 

Is  there  no  comrade  near. 
Who  can  inform  us  whether  we  must  weep 
For  the  decease  of  our  illustrious  Queen? 
Or  doth  Alcestis  Pelias'  daughter  live. 
And  still  behold  the  Sun  ?  by  me,  by  all, 
Esteem'd  the  best  of  Consorts  to  her  Lord, 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

Heard  any  onie  a  groan  ?  smite  they  their  hands 
Beneath  yon  princely  roof,  or  issue  forth 
Such  plaints  as  tho'  the  fatal  hour  were  come  ? 

SEMICHORUS    II. 
Not  thus,  nor  is  there  station'd  at  the  gauet^ 
A  single  servant* 


394  ALCESTIS. 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

'Midst  these  swelling  waves 
Of  misery,  come,  O  Paean,  to  our  aid. 

SEMICHORUS    II. 
If  she  were  dead,  they  would  not  have  observed 
So  long  a  silence,  neither  can  the  corse. 
Unseen  by  us,  be  from  the  palace  borne. 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

Whence  learn'st  thou  this?  I  venture  not  to  speak 
With  equal  confidence.    These  sangpine  hopes 
What  can  suggest  ? 

SEMICHORUS    II. 

How  could  Admetus  lodge 
By  stealtli,  and  unattended,  in  the  grave 
A  wife  so  justly  dear  ?  (3)  before  the  gates 
Of  the  deceased,  as  custom  hath  ordain'd. 
With  waters  from  the  limpid  fountain  drawn, 
I  see  no  laver  fill'd,  no  tresses  shorn 
Are  on  the  threshold  scattered,  as  when  tears    . 
Stream  for  the  dead,  nor  doth  the  blooming  choir 
Of  virgins  utter  their  shrill  plaints. 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

This  day 
Was  by  the  Fates  ordainM 

SflMICHORUS    II, 

What  means  mv  friend  ? 

(3)  In  most  of  tlie  editions  I  have  seen,  the  first  Semichorus  here  begia 
iheir  reply ;  but  Lascaris  makes  no  such  distinction,  and  this  rather  seen» 
to  me  a  conchtsion  to  the  two  preceding  lines,  and  to  come  from  the  same 
speaker.  Kuster  thinks  this  passage  of  Euripides,  of  which  he  gives  a 
citation  hi  his  note  on  the  Ecclesiazusae  of  Aristophanes,  ver.  1025,  was 
the  source  whence  the  latter  derived 

He  proceeds  to  observe,  that  it  vras  the  custom  antiently  to  place  before 
the  doors  of  the  house  in  which  any  ope  lay  dead,  an  earthen  vessel  filled 
with  water,  tliat  they  who  went  out  miglit  be  purified  by  sprinkling  |liem- 
selves  with  it:  this  he  farther  illustrates  by  a  quotation  from  Julius  Pol- 
lux, 1.  8.  segm.  65;  in  the  re^due  of  this  dialogue  I  have  followed  the 
arrangement  of  Lascaris'  and  Ds.  Musgrave's  editions. 


ALCESTIS-  SQ5 

SEMICHORUS    I. 

For  her  descent  to  the  abodes  beneath. 

SEMICHORUS    II. 

'  You  by  these  words  my  inmost  vitals  pierce. 

CHORUS. 

When  the  good  suffer,  they  who  from  their  youth 
Have  been  reputed  virtuous  ought  to  grieve. 

ODE. 

T. 

What  tho'  the  bark  to  distant  lands 

Unfurl  a  prosperous  sail, 
Not  (4)  Ammon's  fane  on  AlVic's  parching  sands. 

Not  Lycia's  oracles  avail 
To  free  her  spirit  from  the  realms  of  night : 
Stern  Fate  draws  near,  and  meditates  the  blow. 
E'en  where  Heaven's  altars  flame  with  holier  light 

Each  divine  response  hath  ceas'd. 

No  longer  now  to  any  Priest 
Desponding  can  I  go. 

.  n. 

Liv'd  -Esculapius  Paean's  son. 
On  whom  his  sire  bestow 'd 
The  healing  art,  Alcestis  might  be  won 

From  sullen  Pluto's  loath'd  abode, 

(4)  *^  The  temple  of  Ammon,  or  Jupiter  Hammon,  was  in  the  dcsejfc^ 
*'  of  Libya;  Quintus  Curtius  gives  a  copious  account  of  it,  in  his  iiistory 
**  of  Alexander  the  Great,  1.  4.  c.  7.  where  he  notices  the  barrenness  of 
*^  those  sands,  and  gives  an  excellent  description  of  the  oracle  and  its 
*^  situation :  but  what  is  said  of  those  parts  being  destitute  of  vmtcr, 
^'  must  be  understood  of  tiie  regions  through  wliicb  it  was  necessary  to 
**  travel :  for  the  spot  itself  where  tlie  temple  stood,  abounded  with 
*^  fountains,  trees,  and  fruits.  In  regard  to  Apollo's  Lycian  oracles,  tlie 
**  following  account  of  them  is  to  be  met  with  in  the  commentaries  on 
'*  Virgil  ^nid.  1.  4.  v,  143  and  346 :  they  were  delivered  in  the  six  win- 
*^  ter  months  in  the  city  of  Patara  built  near  tlie  moutii  of  the  Xanthus,^ 
'*  where  that  river  empties  itself  into  tlie  Mediterranean  sea :  in  the 
"  summer,  Virgil  says,  the  God  visited  this  material  Dclos  ;  where  we 
"  are  to  observe,  that  Diana  occupied  Dicte,  in  Crete,  and  Apollo  Ly 
"  cia,  and  that  they  surrendered  up  Dclos,  where  they  were  born,  to 
^*  their  mother  Latoua.''    Barnes. 


396  ALCESTIS. 

Those  gates  of  darkness :  for  he  rais'd  the  deadly 
Brandish'd  by  Jove  from  yonder  starry  cope 
Till  winged  lightening  smote  the  Sage's  head. 

But  'midst  youth's  bloom  her  life  must  end 

Its  short  duration  to  extend 
How  can  I  form  a  hope  ? 

Nought  hath  our  royal  master  left  untried : 
Abundant  victims  on  each  altar  bleed  : 
Yet  for  these  ills  no  cure  is  to  be  found. 

ATTENDANT,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

But  from  the  house  a  servant  weeping  comes! 
What  fresh  event  may  I  expect  to  hear  ? 
If  aught  befall  our  rulers,  to  lament 
Is  sure  excusable  :  yet  would  I  know 
Whether  Alcestis  breathe,  or  be  no  more. 

ATTENDANT. 

Both  living  you  may  call  her  and  yet  dead.. 

CHORUS. 

How  can  the  self-same  person  be  at  once 
Living  and  dead  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

StretchM  on  a  couch  she  lies 
Just  at  her  utmost  gasp. 

^  CHORUS. 

My  wretched  Lord 
Virtuous  thyself,  of  what  a  virtuous  wife 
Art  thou  deprived ! 

ATTENDANT. 

He  knew  not  of  the  stroke 
Before  he  felt  it. 

CHORUS. 

Is  there  no  hope  left 
Of  saving  her? 

ATTENDANT. 

The  fatal  hour  impends. 


ALCESTIS.  ssr 

CHORUS' 

r 

How  IS  each  decent  preparation  manag'd  ? 

ATTENDANT. 

The  ornaments  in  which  her  lord  intends 
To  bury  her,  are  ready. 

CHORUS. 
Be  our  Queen 
Assur'd,  that  she  shall  die  renown'd,  the  best 
Of  women,  whom  the  sun's  broad  eye  surveys. 

ATTENDANT, 

The  best !   who  ventures  to  deny  her  worth  ? 
Could  aught  have  been  done  more  by  the  most  perfect 
Of  her  whole  sex.  Or  how  could  any  Wife 
Havq  shewn  a  greater  value  for  her  Lord, 
Than  by  thus  dying  for  him  ?    Our  whole  city 
Already  knows  it.     With  amazement  hear 
In  her  apartment  how  she  was  employed. 
When  she  perceiv'd  the  fatal  morn  was  come, 
She  with  the  waters  of  the  limpid  rill 
LavM  her  fair  limbs,   and  from  the  sculptur'd  chest 
Of  fragrant  cedar  each  habiliment 
Assbrting,^  with  a  modest  grace  attir'd 
Her  person,  and  devoutly  as  she  stood 
Before  her  Lares  in  these  terms  implor'd 
The  aid  of  Vesta :   '^  O  thou  aweful  Queen, 
"  For  on  a  journey  to  the  realms  beneath 
"  I  now  am  bound  :  to  thee  with  mv  last  voice 
'*  These  orphan  children  to  protect,  I  sue; 
"  With  a  lov'd  Bride  in  Hymen's  bonds  unite 
^  My  Son,  and  on  this  tender  Maid  bestow 
*^  A  noble  Husband  :  nor,  like  her  who  bore  them, 
*^  Suffer  my  hapless  progeny  t'  expire 
*^  Thus  immaturely  :  but  by  every  bliss  ^ 

'^  Accompanied,  in  their  paternal  land 
*'  Permit  them  to  fill  up  the  lengthen'd  measure 
»*  Of  a  delicious  life."    To  all  the  altars 
Within  Admetus'  palace  then  she  came. 


398  ALCESTIS* 

Deck'd  them  with  garlands,  offer'd  up  her  vows 

And  from  the  branches  of  the  myrtle  stripp'd 

Their  foliage;  yet  meanwhile  nor  wept,  nor  groan'dj 

!Nor  did  the  evil  which  was  close  at  hand 

Change  the  complexion  of  her  blooming  cheeks. 

Till  she  at  length  into  the  chamber  burst. 

Fell  on  her  couch,  then  streamed  the  plenteous  tear. 

And  she  exclaim'd ;  *'  Thou  inauspicious  bed, 

**  On  which  the  favoured  youth,  fctf  whom  I  die, 

*'  Unbound  my  virgin  zone,  farewell,  no  hate 

^^  To  thee  I  bear,  because  thou  hast  destroy'd 

'^  Me  singly:  for  I  perish  through  a  dread 

*'  Thee  and  my  dearest  Husband  to  betray  : 

*'  But  thou  by  a  new  Bride,   tho'  not  more  chaste, 

''  Happier  perchance  than  me,  shall  be  po8sess*d!" 

Thus  lay  she,  and  oft  kiss'd  it  till  the  couch 

Was  wholly  with  her  gushing  tears  bedew'd  ; 

Then^  satiated  with  weeping,  started  up. 

And  oft  from  her  apartment  issued  forth. 

Yet  ever  and  anon  did  she  return, 

And  throw  herself  again  upon  the  couch. 

Meantime  the  childre«tii|^  their  Mother's  robe 

Hung  weeping,  but  §he  rais'd  them  in  her  arms 

As  now  aware  of  her  impending  death. 

And  kiss'd  them  oft,   while  thro'  the  palace  wept. 

Pitying  their  Mistress,  the  whole  menial  train; 

With  courtesy  she  held  forth  her  right  hand 

To  each,  nor  was  there  any  one  so  mean 

Whom  she  accosted  not,  or  to  whose  words 

She  in  her  turn  vouchsafd  not  to  reply. 

Such  are  the  evils  of  Admetus*  house. 

By  dying  he  had  perish'd  only  once. 

But  now,  from  death  escaping,  is  involved 

In  sorrows  such  as  time  can  ne'er  efface. 

CHORUS. 
.Well  may  Admetus  utter  loudest  groans 
For  such  calamity,  if  adverse  Fate 


ALCESTIS.  399 

Ordain  that  he  his  virtuous  Wife  shall  lose. 

ATTENDANT. 

Shedding  abuildant  tears^  his  arms  he  folds 
Around  his  dearest  Consort,  and  entreats 
That  she  will  not  forsake  him;  but  he  sues 
For  whiat's  impossible  to  be  obtain'd: 
With  sickness  withering  she  decays,  her  hands 
Hang  down  a  wretched  load :  yet  scarce  retaining 
The  breath  of  life^^  she  wishes  to  behold 
The  radiant  sun,  whose  beams,  whose  cheering  orb 
For  the  last  time  shall  greet  her  longing  eyes^ 
But  I  will  go  and  tell  her  you  are  here. 
Small  is  the  number  of  the  menial  train 
Who  to  their  lords  so  firmly  are  attach'd 
As  to  support  them  with  unwearied  zeal 
When  visited  with  anguish  :  but  to  those 
I  serve,  you  long  have  prov'd  a  stedfast  friend. 

CHORUS, 

O  Jove,  what  method  is  there  to  escape 
These  woes,  and  loose  the  bonds  of  adverse  fortune 
In  which  ouriionor'd  rulers  are  involved  ? 
Lo  some  one  issues  from  the       f\  I  'my  hair, 
Say^  shall  I  cut,  and  in  a  sable  vest 
These  limbs  array  ? 

ATTENDANT  (r^wwmg.) 

Too  plain,  my  friends,  too  plain 
Is  the  event  we  fear'd :   but  let  us  pray 
To  Heaven,  for  in  the  Gods  is  vested  power 
That  knows  no  bounds.     Devise,  O  royal  Paean, 
Some  scheme  by  which  Admetus  may  escape 
His  sorrows,  and  thy  healing  aid  bestow. 
Bestow  as  heretofore :  for  thy  device 
Erst  sav'd  our  Lord,  now,  from  the  snares  of  death, 
Thine,  be  it  thine,  to  set  his  Consort  free. 
And  baffle  Pluto  thirsting  for  her  gore. 

{Exit   ATTENDANT- 


400  ALCESTIS. 

CHORUS, 

Thou  Son,  alas,  thou  miserable  Son 
Or'  Pheres,  what  a  very  wretch  art  thou 
Kow  from  those  arms  thy  virtuous  Wife  is  total' 
Sufficient  cause  hast  thou  to  slay  thyself. 
More  than  sufficient  cause,  alas!  to  twine 
The  gliding  noose  for  tliy  devoted  neck  : 
For  on  this  very  day  must  thou  behold 
The  dejith  of  her  who  with  no  common  love 
Thy  bosom  fir'd.     But  she  without  the  gate 
E'en  now  ct)mes  forth,  attended  by  her  Lord. 
Groan,  O  thou  region  of  Pherea,  groan. 
Thine  anguish  with  a  clamorous  voice  express 
For  her,  that  best  of  women,  who  departs 
Wasted  with  sickness  to  the  world  beneath 
Where  Pluto  reigns.     I  never  will  affirm 
That  wedlock  with  it  brings  more  joys  than  grief^ 
Contemplating  the  past,  and  now  a  witness 
To  these  the  present  fortunes  of  our  Lord, 
Whose  being  will  hereafter  scarce  deserve 
The  name  of  life,  his  matchless  Consort  lost. 

ALCESTIS,  ADxMETUS,    EUMELUS,    CHORUS. 

ALCESTIS. 

O  Sun,  O  thou  resplendent  light  of  day, 
And  ye  O  fleecy  clouds  with  swift  career 
Whirl'd  thro'  the  heavens ! 

ADMETUS. 

Our  sufferings  they  behold, 
Altho'  we  have  committed  'gainst  the  Gods 
No  sin,  for  which  thou  paight'st  deserve  to  die. 

ALCESTIS. 

Thou  too,  O  Earth,  ye  roofs  of  stately  domes. 
And  gay  apartments  which  in  bridal  pomp 
My  native  land  lolchos  erst  array'd. 

ADMETUS. 

Unhappy  woman,  from  thy  couch  arise. 


-•"S. 


ALCESTIS.  401 

Forsake  me  not ;  but  to  the  Powers  supreme 
Sue  for  their  pity. 

ALCESTIS. 

I  behold  the  boat,  * 
And  him  who  ferries  o*er  the  dead ;  he  grasps 
The  pole :  by  Charon  am  I  summoned  hence. 
He  cries ;  "  What  mean  these  fond  delays  ?  rouse,  rouse, 
*'  Thou  stay'st  behind  when  all  things  «lse  are  ready/' 
Thus  Eagerly  he  hastens  my  career. 

ADMETUS. 

The  voyage  which  thou  speak'sjt  of  is  to  me 
Most  bitter.    Ah,  how  grievous  are  our  woes ! 

ALCESTIS. 

He  leads  me  (see'st  thou  ?)  to  yon  hall  of  death : 
TTis  winged  Pluto  who  with  glaring  eyes 
Darts  horror.     What  art  thou  about?  release  me. 
Thro'  what  strange  paths  most  wretched  am  I  borne. 

ADMETUS. 

By  every  friend,  yet  most  of  all,  by  me. 
And  these  our  offspring,  partners  in  my  grief, 
Lamented. 

ALCESTIS. 

Loose  me,  loose  me,  lay  me  down, 
I  have  no  strength,  grim  Pluto  is  at  hand. 
And  thickest  night  overspreads  these  eyes.  My  children. 
Your  Mother,  O  my  children,  is  no  more : 
May  ye  with  joy  this  radiant  sun  behold ! 

ADMETUS. 

Ah  me !  the  words  I  hear  are  to  my  soul 
More  grievous  far  than  death  in  any  form. 
Forsake  me  not,  I  by  the  Gods  implore 
(5)  And  by  our  children,  who  of  thee  bereft 
Will  mourn  their  orphan  state  ;  but  O  resume 

(5)  The  line  juwt  ngo;  lia*&cv  vs  o^viti;,  though  omitted  in  tiie  precediii|^ 
editions,  here  claims  a  place  from  being  restored  by  Dr.  Musgrave  on 
the  concuneat  authorities  of  three  manuscripts,  and  the  mtetgretation  cf 
the  Scholiast 

VOL.  I.  D  D 


402  ALCESTIS. 

Thy  spirits  :  I  no  longer  can  exist 
When  thou  art  dead  ;  on  thee,  on  thee  alone 
Depends  it,  whether  I  yet  live,  or  quit 
This  world ;  for  thee  I  love  and  thee  revere- 

ALCESTIS. 

To  thee,  Admetus,  I  my  last  behests 
(Thou  see'st  my  situation)  ere  I  die 
Wish  to  unfold  :  thro'  my  esteem  for  thee, 
On  whom  in  my  own  stead  I  have  conferred 
The  privilege  of  life,  I  now  expire; 
Yet  in  my  option  was  it  to  have  shunn'd 
The  stroke  of  death,  and,  from  the  noblest  youths 
Of  Thessaly  selecting  a  new  husband. 
Dwelt  in  this  palace,  blest  with  regal  power : 
I  would  not  hold  my  being  on  such  terms 
As  being  torn  away  from  thee,  and  left 
With  these  poor  orphans:  crown'd  with  (6)  Hebe's  gifts^ 
Fond  pledges  of  delight,  myself  I  spar'd  not : 
But  thee  the  very  Father  who  begot. 
The  Mother  too  that  bore  thee  have  betrayed. 
Mature  in  age,  when  they  to  save  their  Son, 
Might  like  heroic  spirits  have  expir'd. 
For  thou  wert  all  they  had,  nor  could  the  hope 
Of  any  farther  issue,  to  replace 
Thy  loss,  still  harbour  in  their  aged  breasts* 
Myself  and  thou  might  also  hence  have  liv*d 
The  residue  of  our  allotted  time, 

(6)  Though  the  reading  of  Uoi  will  not^  I  preeume,  strike  the  reader 
as  being  exceptionable  in  any  other  respect  than  its  apparent  want  of 
authenticity,  the  substitution  of  nSng  in  its  room,  is  what  I  have  followed 
en  account  of  its  being  established  by  Dr.  Musgrave  from  the  concur- 
rence of  all  the  manuscripts  and  the  Lascaris'  edition :  he  interprets  it 
of  the  Goddess  Hebe,  whose  gifts  children  may  with  propriety  be  called. 
The  Doctor  has,  however,  in  his  supplement,  altered  his  way  of  tliink- 
ing,  and  given  a  note  of  no  inconsiderable  length  in  defence  of  Hvf :  but 
facts  are  by  far  oiore  forcible  than  mere  opinions,  and  the  former  hap- 
pily never  undergo  any  change,  while  the  latter  are  peipetually  fluc;- 
tuating.    • 


ALCESTIS.  V       403 

Nor  would'st  thou  have  bewaiFd  thy  Consort's  loss, 
Without  maternal  aid  constrain'd  to  rear 
'  A  brood  of  children.     Yet  are  these  events 
By  one  of  the  immortal  gods  dispos'd. 
I  acquiesce  :•  but  let  thy  grateful  soul 
A  memory  of  this  favor  still  retain. 
But  I  for  no  equivalent  will  ask,  ^ 

Nor  could  there  be  discovered  aught,  than  life, 
Of  greater  value  :  yet  will  thou  confess 
That  it  is  just  (for,  if  thou  think  aright. 
The  love  thou  bear'st  these  children  equals  mine) 
In  thee  to  make  our  race  the  future  lords 
Of  these  abodes,  in  which  I  now  am  Queen* 
Nor  subject  to  the  step-dame's  harsh  contrpul 
Our  progeny,  lest  such  a  woman,  sway'd 
By  principles  less  virtuous,  should  attempt 
Against  our  offspring,  thro'  an  envious  rage. 
Some  deed  of  violence.     Beware,  my  lord. 
And  act  not  thus,  to  thee  I  humbly  sue : 
For  when  the  step-dame,  an  inveterate  foe 
To  the  first  race,  succeeds,  she  like  the  viper 
Is  merciless.    As  for  the  boy,  he  finds 
A  fortress  to  protect  him,  in  his  Sire, 
With  whom  he  oft  the  mutual  converse  holds : 
But,  O  my  Daughter,  by  what  means  canst  thou 
Be  nurtur'd  as  illustrious  virgins  ought  ? 
May  not  thy  Sire  be  coupled  to  a  Bride 
Who,  tainting  with  disgrace  thy  spotless  name. 
E'en  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  thy  nuptial  joys 
Will  frustrate  ?  for  no  Mother  shall  preside 
O'er  thy  espousals,  nor  midst  child-birth's  pangs 
When  the  maternal  tenderness  exerts 
Its  utmost  force,  support  thy  drooping  soul. 
For  I  must  die,  nor  is  this  ill  postpon'd 
E'en  till  to-morrow,  nor  the  (7)  moon's  third  day: 

(7)  It  appears  from  tiiis  passage  to  have  been  customary  among  tiM 
Greeks  for  Creditors  to  allow  some  farther  qpace  for  piQ^meut  of  tiieir 

O  B  S2 


4()4  ALCESTIS. 

But  in  a  moment,  witli  the  silent  dead 
Shall  1  be  numbered.     Fare  ye  well,  take  comfort : 
Thou,  O  my  Husband,  hast  sufficient  cause 
To  boast  thou  didst  possess  the  best  of  Wives, 
Ye,  too  my  Children,  glory  that  ye  sprung 
From  such  a  Mother. 

CHORUS. 

Courage :  I  for  him 
Dread  not  to  answer,  that  he  will  perform 
These  thy  requests,  unless  his  reason  fail. 

ADMETUS. 
They  shall  be  executed,  yes  they  shall : 
Harbour  no  groundless  fears,  for  thou  thro*  life 
Hast  been,  and  in  the  grave  shalt  still  remain. 
My  only  Consort;  no  Thessalian  nymph 
Shall  in  thy  stesrd  by  the  endearing  name 

debts  beyond  the  expiration  of  their  contract :  from  whence  "  the  days 
**  of  grace,"  in  relation  to  bills  of  exchange  and  drafts,  probably  derived 
their  origin.  The  following  passage  m  the  Clouds  of  Aristophanes  shews, 
that  at  Athens,  in  the  time  of  Euripides,  the  interest  of  money  was 
paid  at  the  return  of  the  moon* 

Itf,   Et   jutnxt?  ayltXyjn  oihtm  fA.*^etfAj» 

Ova  en  y  tcTto^nf  tvg  roxag, 
Iiwtg.  Tin  Ti  hi ; 

Lt^.  O  Tin  %ctltc  fXttftt  y  ftgft'fiwv  ^eetu^treu, 

"  Strepsiades.  If  the  Moon 

**  No  where  appeaiM,  no  longer  rising  shone 
"  Upon  the  earth,  then  I  too  might  retire 
"  Nor  longer  be  obliged  to  pay  for  Infrest.** 

"  Socrates.  As  how? 

"  Strepsiades.    Because  the  payment  of  all  InPrest 
"  Is  stipulated  by  the  Moon's  return***  White. 

Thus  we  find  by  Salmasius,  in  his  treatise  de  Fcenore  Trapezitico,  that 
the  centesima  usm'a  among  tlie  antient  Romans  was  one  per  cent,  monthly. 
So  difficult,  however,  is  it  for  the  commonly  received  text  to  find  any  ex- 
emption from  the  assaults  of  modem  criticism,  that  Dr.  Mosgrave  has  not 
only  objected  to  the  word  /uuiyoc  as  seeing  no  reason  for  Euripides  making 
use  of  it,  but  proposed  xifgoc  m  its  stead,  and  even  gone  so  far  as  to  new- 
model  his  Latin  version  suitably  to  that  conjecture,  for  which  be  appears 
to  have  no  authority  whatever* 


ALCESTIS.  4(Mf 

Of  flusband  e'er  accost  me,  iho'  she  spring  v 

From  au  illustrious  Father,  and  transcend 

All  other  women  in  her  graceful  form. 

Of  Children  I  already  have  enough, 

And  pray  the  Gods  that  them  I  may  enjoy, 

Since  all  enjoyment  I  of  thee  have  lost! 

Nor  shall  my  nHourning  to  the  usual  space 

Of  one  short  year  be  limited,  but  last 

Long  as  my  life  endures;  e'en  her  whp  bore  me 

I  loathe,  and  to  my  Father  am  a  foe ; 

For  they  in  empty  word^  and  not  in  deeds. 

Have  been  my  friends :  but  thou,  by  yielding  up 

What  mortals  hold  most  dear,  hast  sav'd  my  life. 

Have  not  I  cause  sufficient  for  thes^  groans. 

When  of  a  Wife  like  thee  I  am  bereft? 

Henceforth,  I  from  the  banquet  will  abstain. 

From  social  converse  o'er  the  flowing  bowl. 

These  brows  no  wreath  shall  crown,  th*  enlivening  sopg 

No  longer  echo  thro'  my  vaulted  roofs. 

For  I  will  never  more  attempt  to  touch 

The  sounding  lyre,  nor  to  the  Libyan  flute 

Kaise  the  symphouiotis  warbliiigs  of  my  yo>ice;, 

All  the  delights  of  life  with  thee  are  fled. 

But,  by  the  hand  of  skilful  artists  form'd. 

Thy  image  ria all  be  plac'd  upon  my  ct)ttch. 

That  over  thy  resemblance  while  I  bow, 

And  with  these  Arms  infold  it,  op  ihy  name 

Still  calling,  I  my  Wife  may  seem  to  claspf 

Tho'  I  in  fact  possess  the:e  not :  cold  joys 

I  deem  are  tli^^e,  yet  thus  may  I  alleviate 

The  burden  which  bangs  heavy  on  oxy  soul.  : 

By  visiting  my  dreams  thou  wilt  delight  me^ 

For  it  is  grateful  Xo  see  those  we  love     t  < 

At  any  hour,  e'en  in  the  midnight  gloom. 

Had  I  the  tongue  and  the  melodious ^tr^if^s 

Of  Orpheus,  could  h  softening  by  w^y  «QD;g  F 


406 


ALCESTIS. 


Or  Ceres'  Daughter  or  her  haughty  Lord, 

Redeem  thee  from  the  dreary  shades  beneath, 

I  thither  would  descend,  nor  should  the  Hound 

Of  Pluto,  nor  the  ferryman  of  ghosts. 

Unwearied  Charon,  who  still  plies  the  oar, 

Prevent  me,  till  I  to  the  realms  of  light, 

A  living  Consort,  thee  again  had  borne  : 

But  wait  thou  there  till  the  appointed  time 

Of  my  departure,  and  a  house  prepare. 

For  thou  with  me  for  ever  shalt  reside. 

In  the  same  cedar  chest  which  shall  contain 

Thy  body,  I  these  servants  will  direct 

Mine  side  by  side  to  place  :  for  e'en  in  death 

From  thee  I  would  not  part,  since  thou  alone 

To  me  hast  faithful  prov'd. 

CHORUS. 

I,  like  a  friend 
Who  for  his  friend  is  interested,  will  share 
Your  griefs,  for  she  deserves  to  be  lamented. 

ALCESTIS. 

My  Children,  ye  have  heard  your  Sire  profess 
That  he  will  never  take  a  second  Wife 
To  tyrannize  o'er  you,  or  shame  my  memory. 

ADMETUS. 

This  promise  I  repeat,  and  will  perform. 

ALCESTIS. 

On  such  condition,  at  my  hands  receive 
Our  Children. 

ADMETUS. 

These  dear  pledges  I  accept. 
By  that  dear  hand  entrusted  to  my  care. 

ALCESTIS. 

Be  thou  to  them  a  Mother  in  my  stead. 

ADMETUS. 

This  sad  behest,  when  thou  art  torn  away. 
It  greatly  doth  import  me  to  fulfill. 


ALCESTIS.  407 

AJXJESTIS. 

I,  O  my  Children,  to  the  shades  descend 
When  my  life  most  was  needed. 

ADMETUS. 

What  resource, 
Alas,  have  I,  when  thus  of  thee  bereft  ? 

ALCESTIS. 

Time  will  assuage  thy  sorrows  :  but  the  dead 
Sink  into  nothing. 

ADMETUS. 

Take  me,  by  the  Gods, 
Take,  I  entreat  thee,  to  the  realms  beneath. 

ALCESTIS. 

Sufficient  is  it  that  I  die  to  save  thee. 

ADMETUS. 

Of  what  a  virtuous  Wife,  O  ruthless  Fate, 
Art  thou  depriving  me ! 

ALCESTIS. 

Thick  darkness  hangs 
Upon  these  eyelids  with  a  leaden  weight* 

ADMETUS.  ^ 

I  utterly  am  lost,  if  thou  should*st  leave  m^. 

ALCESTIS. 

Well  may'st  thou  call  me  now  a  thing  of  nought. 
As  ceasing  to  exist. 

ADMETUS. 

Look  up,  nor  quit 
Thy  children. 

ALCESTIS. 

*Tis  not  with  my  own  consent. 
But  I  to  them  must  bid  a  long  adieu. 

ADMETUS. 

Cast  but  one  look  upon  them,  one  kind  look. 

ALCESTIS.' 

To  veiy  notliing  now  am  I  reduced. 

ADMETUS. 

What  mean'st  thou?  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 


408  ALCESTIS. 

ALCESTIS. 

Farewell!  [^She  dies, 

ADMETUS. 

Wretch  that  I  am  !   I  perish. 

CHORUS. 

There  she  died ; 
The  Consort  of  Admetus  is  no  more, 

EUMELUS. 
I. 

Woe  is  me  !  my  Mother's  gone 
Down  to  the  banks  of  Acheron ; 
For  her,  th'  auspicious  orb  of  day 
No  more  its  radiance  shall  display: 
Her  life  to  fate  hath  she  resign'd, 
And  me  an  orphan  leaves  behind. 
The  lustre  of  those  eyes  behold 
Extinct,  those  hands  unnerv'd  and  cold. 
O  Mother,  listen  to  my  prayer 
Nor  let  these  vows  be  lost  in  air ; 
Thy  tender  son,  ^tis  I  that  speak 
Imprinting  kisses  on  thy  cheek. 

ADMETUS. 

On  her  thou  cairst  who  neither  hears  thy  voice 
Nor  sees  thy  tears  :  both  I  and  you,  my  Qiiidren, 
Are  smitten  by  the  ponderous  arm  of  Fate. 

JEUMELUS. 

n. 

Of  maternal  care  bereft,  • 

I,  O  my  Sire,  in  youth  am  left : 

O  how  severe^  how  past  all  cure 

Are  the  afflictions  I  endure!  \':.  k  ■ 

You,  p  my  Sister,  also  bear 

In  thtd  calamity  a  share.  > 

My  Father,  thou  in  vain,  in  vain. 

The  best  of  Consorts  didst  obtain,  /     :' 

Nor  to  the  goal  of  age  hast  led. 

For  fihe  is  prematurely  dead : 


ALCESTIS.  409 

And,  O  my  dearest  Mother  all 
This  ruin'd  house  partakes  thy  fall.. 

CHORUS. 
These  are  misfortunes  which  we  must  liupport 
-'With  firmness,  O  Admetus  :  for  'mong  mea 
You  are  not  first,  nor  yet  shall  you  be  last. 
To  lose  a  virtuous  Consort ;  be  assur'd 
That  death's  a  debt  exacted  from  us  all. 

ADMETUS. 
Of  this  am  I  aware,  nor  hither  took 
Such  ill  a  sudden  flight ;  with  anguish  long 
Its  coming  I  foresaw,  but  (since  the  corse 
Must  be  with  due  solemnity  borne  forth) 
Fixt  on  the  spot  where  now  ye  stand,  copmence 
In  your  alternate  notes  a  choral  strain 
To  Pluto,  that  inexorable  God. 
Let  all  my  subjects,  the  Thessalian  race. 
Their  tresses  shorn  and  clad  in  sable  vest. 
Honor  with  public  grief  this  matchless  Dame : 
And  ye  who  either  harness  to  the  car. 
Or  mount  the  rapid  courser,  with  sharp  steel 
Cut  (8)  off  their  flowing  manes:  for  twelve  whole  moons 
Let  neither  flute  nor  lyre's  harmonious  sound 
Be  thro'  the  city  heard,  for  no  one  else 
To  me  more  dear,  or  by  superior  worth 
Claiming  my  gratitude,  can  I  inter: 
From  me  the  greatest  honor  she  deserves. 
For  she  alone  hath  in  my  stead  expir'd. 

[Exeunt  admetus  and  i^umelus. 

(8)  "  HerodotHs  relates  tiiat  tibe  Pereiaiw  upcm  hearing;  of  the  slaughter 
^*  of  Masistius  shore  themselves  and  their  horses  and  beasts  of  burden  ; 
**  the  same  Author  in  anotlier  place  mentions  tliis  being  done  by'Mardo- 
^  nins  himself  the  general  of  Xerxes's  troops,  when  under  affliction.  It 
^  is  also  mentioned  by  Plutarch  that  Alexander  the  Great  had  his  hones 
**  shorn  at  the  funeral  solemnity  of  Hephaestion,  and  the  Thehans  on  the 
**  death  of  Pelopidas,  See  Kirchmannus  on  tite  Funerals  of  the  R<^- 
**  roans,  L.  ii  c.  14."        Barnes. 


4i0  ALCESTIS. 

CHORUS.  N/^ 

ODE. 

I.  1. 

Daughter  of  Pelias,  doom'd  by  fate  to  dwell 

Jn  Plulo's  loath'd  abode,  that  vale 
Where  the  sun  darts  no  cheering  beams,  all  hail! 

Inform  the  swarthy  God  of  Hell, 
And  that  old  Ferryman  who  plies  the  oar, 
Maintaining  ever  at  the  leaky  helm 

His  station,  and  to  Orcus'  realm 
Conveys  the  dead  ;  on  Acheron's  bleajc  shore 
He  now  hath  landed  her  who  did  her  sex  excell. 

I.  ?. 

For  thee  shall  oft  the  votaries  of  the  Muse 
To  plaintive  sounds  attune  the  lyre. 

Long  shall  thy  praises  fill  the  vocal  choir. 
When  Sparta's  vernal  moon  renews, 

As  in  meridian  lustre  ihro'  the  skies 

It  glides,  that  feast  (9)  from  Carnus  which  its  name 
Derives,  and  as  a  tribute  to  thy  fame 

(9)  The  accounts  of  Carnus  which  we  meet  with  in  Pausaoias  are,  tiiat 
he  was  the  son  of  Jupiter  and  Europa;  for  his  education  he  was  indebted 
to  Latona  and  Apollo,  from  whom  he  received  the  gift  of  divination ; 
Camus  being  slain,  Hippotes  the  murderer  fled ;  but  Apollo  wreaked  liis 
vengeance  by  sending  a  pestilential  disorder  into  the  c^mp  of  the  Dfh 
rians,  who  instituted  solemn  expiatory  rites,  in  whicli  they  paid  joint 
homage  to  the  Prophet  and  the  God,  who  thence  received  the  appellation 
of  Camean  Apollo ;  the  Camus  of  the  Lacedaemonians  he  considers  as  a 
different  person,  and  says  that  divine  honors  were  performed  to-  him  in 
the  house  of  Crius  the  Seer,  vdiile  the  Achaians  were  yet  in  possession  of 
Sparta.  Apollodoras  supplies  some  defects  in  the  above  history,  and 
according  to  him,  Carnus  (the  name  indeed  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
text,  he  being  only  called  a  Prophet),  having  appeared  to  ihe  Heradid« 
when  they  sailed  from  the  haven  of  Naupactus  in  /Etoiia  under  the 
command  of  Temenus  the  son  of  Aristodepias,  and  foretold  to  them 
future  events,  which  we  must  infer  to  have  been  of  a  very  unacceptable 
nature,  they  considered  him  as  a  magician,  and  Hippotes  the  great 
grandson  of  Hercules  ran  him  through  with  a  lauce.    Not  long  after  this 


ALCESTIS.  41  i 

Shall  clouds  of  Incense  at  blest  Athens  rise ; 
Thy  deaths  a  noble  theme,  each  future  Bard  shall  choose. 

11.   I. 

Would  I  had  power  thee  from  the  shades  to  save. 

And  to  the  solar  light  restore, 
To  guide  the  bark  again  with  Charon's  oar 

Across  Cocytus'  muddy  wave. 
O  best  of  women,  in  thy  Husband's  stead 
Hast  thou,  and  thou  alone,  jendur'd  to  die. 

On  thee  may  the  turf  lightly  lie ; 
If  a  new  Wife  partake  Admetus'  bed. 
Mine  and  thy  Children's  haie  shall  tend  him  to  the  graven 

TI.  2. 
Mother  nor  aged  Father  would  descend. 

On  his  behalf,  the  dreary  tomb. 
Their  Son  to  rescue  from  th*  infernal  gloom. 

Hence  their  grey  hairs  doth  shame  attend. 
But  while  thy  cheeks  with  vernal  roses  glow, 
For  thy  young  Lord  thou  quitt'st  this  blest  domain. 

If  such  a  Consort  T obtain 
(These  portions  life  full  rarely  doth  bestow) 
Our  days  from  sorrow  free  together  shall  we  spend. 


HERCULES,  CHORUS. 

HERCULES. 

Triltes  of  Pheraea,  Strangers,  shall  I  find 
Admetus  in  the  palace  ? 

CHORUS.       . 
Pheres'  son 

event,  Lacedsmon,  with  tlie  rest  of  Hie  PeloponesQS,  became  subject 
to  the  Heraclkfae.  The  festival  here  mentioned  was  annnaUy  celebrated 
with  games  which  lasted  nine  successive  days  in  the  month  of  April,  and 
according  to  AthenoBus  was  first  instituted  in  Sparta  so  late  as  the 
twenty-siKth  Olympiad.  From  the  combined  testimony  of  these  authors, 
though  not  perfectly  according  with  ctich  other,  it  results  that  the  insti- 
tntion  of  the  (l^ameian  feasts  must  have  been  much  later  than  the  times 
«f  Hercules  and  Admetus,  and  that  therefore  it  is  not  without  an  ob« 
vious  degree  of  impropriety  that  meatioii  is  made  of  them  io  this  Odew 


412  ALCESTIS. 

Is  here  within,   O  Hercules.     But  say 
What  errand  brings  you  to  Thessalia's  land, 
Or  why  you  visit  these  Pheraean  walls? 

HERCULES, 

I,  by  Eurystheus  the  (10)  Tirynthian  king 
Enjoin'd,  a  certain  labor  must  perform. 

CHOKUS. 
But  whither  would  you  go,  and  in  what  realm 
Are  you  prepar'd  to  wander  ? 

HERCULES. 

The  four  steeds 
Of  Thracian  Diomedes  I  must  win. 

CHORUS. 

How  can  you  execute  this  bold  emprise  ? 
Are  you  a  stranger  to  that  Tyrant's  might  ? 

HERCULES. 

I  am  a  stranger :  the  Bistonian  land 
These  feet  have  never  enter'd. 

CHORUS, 

You  those  coursers 
Without  a  combat  cannot  tame. 

HERCULES 

From  labors^ 

[10]  The  city  of  Tirynthia  appears  to  have  been  not  far  distant  from 
Argos,  with  whose  troops  those  it  furnished  for  the  Trojan  war,9<^  nitited 
by  Homer,  who  calls  it  Tujiotaveet,  or  "  strongly  fortified."  It  became  an 
independent  state  under  Pnetus,  who,  being  driven  from  Argos  by  his 
brother  Acrisius,  was  assisted  by  the  Cyclops  in  erecting  bulwarks  and  a 
citadel  for  its  defence.  In  this  account  Strabo,  Apollodorus,  and  Pan* 
sanias,  all  accord.  The  latter  of  these  writei-s  mentions  the  demolition 
•of  Tu-ynthia  by  the  Argives,  and  speaks  of  its  ruins  as  coasisting  pf 
stonei^of  a  most enprmous size ;  but  in  Pliny's  time  there  seems  to )i9kYe 
been  no  traces  of  its  situation  remaining,  for  he  represents  it  as  kaown 
only  by  tradition.  There  is  room  to  infer  that  Tirynthia  stood  either  (i^ 
the  sea  coast  or  the  banks  of  the  Inachus,  which  is  the  only  river  pf  my 
consequence  we  meet  with  in  that  part  of  the  Peloponemis,  ^om  fit^ 
phanusjiyzantinus  saying  it  was  called  AXtetf,  Halies,  from  the  roultitade 
of  fishermen  who  inhabited  it,  till  ^t  received  the  name  of  Tirynthe  firom 
tlie  sister <>f  Amphitryon.  . 


ALCESTIS.  413 

Whate'er  they  are,  yet  cannot  I  recoil. 

CHORUS. 

You  either  will  return  when  you  have  slaiu 
Their  master,  or  a  breathless  corse  there  lie. 

HERCULES. 

Nor  am  I  now  to  run  my  first  career. 

CHORUS. 

What  will  you  gain  if  you  their  Lord  subdue? 

HERCULES. 

Those  captive  steeds  to  the  Tirynthian  King 
I  mean  to  drive. 

•  CHORUS. 

Within  their  mouths  to  fix 
The  galling  bit,  were  not  an  easy  task. 

HERCULES. 

'  Unless  they  from  their  nostrils  breathe  forth  fire. 

CHORUS. 

But  with  rapacious  jaws  on  human  flesh 
They  prey. 

HERCULES. 

Such  food  as  this,  to  beasts  who  haunt 
(The  mountains,  not  to  horses,  doth  belong. 

CHORUS. 

Sprinkled  with  gore  their  mangers  will  you  view. 

HERCULES. 

As  for  the  man  by  whom  they  have  been  nourished^ 

What  Father  doth  he  boast  of  ? 

CHORUS. 

Mars:  and  reigns 

O'er  Thrace  distinguished  by  its  golden  shield*. 

HERCULES. 

The  labor  too  thou  speak'st  of,  have  the  Fates 
Ordain'd  ;  them  ever  have  I  found  severe, 
And  to  the  pinnacle  of  high  renown 
Urging  my  steps.     I  sure  am  doom'd  to  war 
With  all  the  valiant  progeny  of  Mars, 


4 14  ALCESTIS. 

(II)  LycaoD  first,  then  Cygnus,  and  advance 
To  this  my  third  encounter  with  those  steeds 
And  with  their  Lord.     But  none  shall  ever  see 
Aicmena's  offspring  tremble  at  the  might 
Of  any  foe. 

CHORUS. 
Behold  Admetus'  self. 
King  of  this  land,  forth  from  his  palace  comes, 

ADMETUS;  HERCULES,  CHORUS. 

ADMETUS. 

Hail,  Son  of  Jove,  from  noble  Perseus  sprung. 

HERCULES. 

Joy  to  thee  too,  Admetus,  O  thou  ruler 
Of  the  Thessalians! 

ADMETUS. 

Would  to  Heaven—!  I  know 
Your  kind  intentions. 

HERCULES. 

Whence  by  tresses  shorn 
Art  thou  distinguished  in  such  mournful  guise? 

ADMETUS. 

This  day  I  must  inter  a  corse. 

HERCULES. 

Heaven  ward 
The  mischief  from  thy  children ! 

ADMETUS. 

Those  I  had 

« 

Are  living  in  the  palace. 

HERCULES. 

But  thy  Sire, 
Mature  in  years,  perhaps  is  now  no  more. 

ADMETUS. 

He  and  my  Mother,  O  Alcides,  live. 

(11)  The  Lycaon  killed  by  Hercules  was  a  son  of  Keleos  and  brother 
to  Nestor.    He  had  Neptune  and  not  Mars  for  his  grandiUfheiw 


\ 


ALCESTIS.  4U 

HERCULESi 

Is  then  thy  Wife,  thy  lov'd  Alcestis,  dead? 

ADMETUS. 
Of  her  I  in  a  twofold  strain  may  speak. 

HERCULES, 

By  this  thy  language  woilld'st  thou  mark  her  out 
As  dead  or  living  i 

ADMETUS. 

She  at  once  both  is. 
And  is  no  more :  this  grieves  my  soul. 

HERCULES. 

Thou  speak'st . 
Obscurely,  and  I  know  iK)t  what  thou  meanest. 

ADMETUS. 

To  her  impending  fate  are  you  a  stranger? 

HERCULES. 

I  know  she  promised  in  thy  stead  to  die. 

ADMETUS. 

How  then  is  she  yet  living,  if  engag'd 
By  such  a  compact  ? 

HERCULES. 

Weep  not  for  thy  Wifo 
Before  the  time,  but  stay  still  she  expire. 

ADMETUS. 

^    Whoever  breathes  his  last  may  be  term'd  dead. 
And  to  be  dead  is  to  exist  no  more. 

HERCULES. 

Yet  hold  we  that  to  be  or  not  to  be 
Is  different. 

ADMETUS. 

Thus,  O  Hercules,  you  judge  ; 
But  I  think  otherwise. 

HERCULES. 
What  cause  hast  thou 
•  For  tears,  or  who  of  those  thou  lov'st  is  dead  ? 

ADMETUS. 

A  woman :  we  just  now  have  been  conversing 
About  a  woman. 


416  ,    ALCESTIS. 

HERCULES.'' 

Was  that  (12)  woman  born 
In  foreign  regions,  or  to  thee  allied 
By  ties  of  blood  ? 

ADMETUS/ 

She,   ih  a  foreign  land 
Tllo'  born,  yet  was  a  necessary  inmate 
Of  these  abodes. 

HERCULES. 
How  lost  she  then  her  life 

Beneath  thy  roofs  ? 

ADMETUS. 

Her  Father  being  dead. 
The  orphan  here  was  train'd. 

HERCULES. 

I  could  have  wish'd 
To  find  Admetus  by  no  sorrow  vext. 

ADMETUS. 

With  what  design  have  you  compos'd  this  speech? 

HERCULES. 

Hence  to  the  social  hearth  of  other  hosts 
Will  I  proceed. 

ADMETUS. 

You  must  not:  may  the  Gods, 

(12)  Both  of  these  alternatives  might  have  heen  answered  by  Admetns 
in  tiie  affirmative.  Alcestis,  bom  at  lolchos  in  Thessaly,  was  nearly  re-' 
lated  to  him  before  their  marriage,  for  Admetus  and  she  descended  from 
the  same  grandmother.  Salmoneus  (one  of  the  sons  of  ^olus)^  who  was 
smitten  for  his  impiety  by  Jupiter  with  thunderbolts,  left  a  daughter 
named  lyro ;  she  married  Crethens  her  Other's  brother,  by  whom  she 
had  three  sons,  /EsoUj  Amychaon,  and  Pheres,  the  father  of  Admetus, 
to  whom  Pelias  the  father  of  Alcestis  was  brother  by  the  mothei's  side. 
Tyro  having  borne  him  and  Neleus  father  of  Nestor  to  the  God  Neptune 
before  her  marriage.  Apollodoms,  Pausanias,  and  Diodorus  Sicolus,  all 
concur  in  acquitting  Alcestis  of  having  been  concerned  with  her  sisters  in 
the  death  of  their  father,  whose  being  killed  and  cut  in  pieces  by  tbsm^ 
is  more  than  once  mentioned  in  the  Medea  of  our  Author :  they  were 
induced  by  that  Sorceress  to  commit  tiie  detestable  pivricide,  from  an 
expectation  that  they  could  tender  Imn  yoaag  i^ain  by  boiUiif  his  lunbs 
in  a  caldron. 


ALCESTIS.  417 

My  noble  fi  iend^  avert  so  great  a  curse  i 

HERCULES. 

To  the  afflicted,  if  a  stranger  comes 
He  gives  fresh  trouble. 

ADMETUS. 

As  for  the  deceased, 
To  nature  their  last  tribute  they  have  paid  : 
But  enter  these  abodes. 

HERCUWIS. 
Beneath  the  roof 
Of  those  who  mourn^  to  banquet  were  unseemly. 

ADMETUS. 

There  are  detach'd  apartments  for  our  guests ; 
To  these  we  will  conduct  you. 

HERCULES. 

Suffer  me 
Hence  to  depart^  and  I  with  grateful  soul 
The  kindness  will  retain. 

ADMETUS. 

You  must  not  go 
To  any  other  mansion.     Lead  the  way^ 
Open  those  chambers  most  remote  from  view. 
And  them  who  in  such  office  j^re  employed 
Bid  furnish  plenteous  viands  :  close  the  doors 
Which  separate  those  apartments;  for  unseemly. . 
Is  it  that  they  who  feast  should  hear  our  groan^^ 
Ox  strangers  be  made  sad. '  [Exit  hercdlss. 

CHORUS.  • 

What  means  my  Lord  ? 
3y  such  severe  calamity  oppressed 
^an  ybu 'find  lieart,  Admietus,  to  receive 
This  visitanti  nave  you  your  reason  lost  ? 

ADMETUS. 

If  from  my  hearth  and  city  I  had  driven. 
On  his  arrival,  an  illustrious  guest, 
Would'st  thou  such  conduct  rather  have  applauded  ? 
I  know  thou  could'st  not:  for  my  adverse  fate 

VOL.   I.  BE 


418  ALCESTIS, 

Still  undiminish'd  would  have  then  remain'd. 
While  I  was  breaking  through  the  sacred  laws 
Of  hospitality,  atid  to  the  load 
Of  this  my  present  woe,  another  woe 
"  Would  have  been  added,  and  this  house  have  gain'd 
The  title  of  unfriendly  to  its  guest: 
In  bini  too  the  nM>st  generous  host  1  find 
Whene'er  I  tread  the  parching  Argive  soil. 

CHORUS. 

Why  then  do  you  conceal  the  present  woe. 
When  such  a  friend  as  he  of  whom  you  speak 
Arrives  jiist  at  the  crisis  ? 

ADMETTUS.  ? 

.    On  no  terms- 
Would  he  the  house  have  entei'd,  had  he  known 
Aught  of  ray  ilis  :    there  are  to  whom  I  fear 
That  I  in  acting  thus  shall  seem  uDwise>  •'     ' 

Nor  worthy  of  iheir  praise  :  but  my  abodes     !.. .      '  ' 
Have  never  yet  known  how,  or  to  repell 
Or  treat  the  stranger  with  unseemly  scorn. 

CHORUS. 

O    B    E.  ^ 

■■••■'        It         •    'fl  L    !••  •       ,:,j    •    .         .     ,  ,     ; 

r 

Health  to  Phersea-s  hospitable  dome: 
Fair  Liberality  here  fiji'd  her  seat,.  ,:  .     ;.if     ,  '  ■    'i 
"^13)  -Apollo  deign'd  to  make  these  walfe  hi#.hoBie|,i « 
Th'  immortal  Pythian  Bar^,  in  this  retreat 

(13)  The  following  rertt^k  on  MUtoii's  Af f^isqs  ^«i|f9  iaa  ^»ie  t^^the 
Rev.  Mr.  Thoxoas  Wartpn's^  edition  of  his  sm^jQer  Boem8^,p..55^ ;  '^il^has 
''  never  been  observed  that  the  whole  context  is  a  manifest  iraitation.of  a 
<<  snbhme  Chorus  in  the  Alcestis  bf  Miltox^s  ikvo^e  ^i^k  dtannriiB^Eit* 
**  ripides.**  It  may  not  be  mttcceptable  to  the  reader  if  I  subjoin  the 
wholepassage:  ..... 

'^  At  nonspontedomnm  tamen. idem  <&  regis  adivit  y 

.f<R«niPhereti«4ttc<Elofii^tiyu8  Apollo  J  ,, 
<' Ille  hcet  magnum  Alciden  sdscepjerat  hospes; 

^  Tahtum  ttbi  ckmosos  pbtidt  Titrire  bubufeos/  .1 


ALCESTlS;  4>9 

Content  to  feed  the  flock,  atlun'd  his  lyre  j 
Each  winding  valley  rung> 
As  to  the  sportive  herds  be  sung 
Notes  in  each  breast  awakening  soft  desire* 

I.  2. 
Innoxious  did  the  spotted  lynxes  rove 

In  social  bands,  delighted  with  liis  strain. 
And  tawny  lions  from  Othrya's  grove  r 

Descending,  wanton'd  o'er  the  vernal  plain  j  « 

Soon  as  thy  harp,  O  Phoebus,  gave  the  sound,  ,/ 

The  fawn,  with  nimble  leap 
High  bounding  o'er  the  pine-clad  steep. 
In  the  brisk  notes  exulting  danc'd  ai'ouad. 

II.  1. 

Hence  with  unnumber'd  sheep  the  pasture  teeins,  ;  , 
Adown  yon  slope  the  yellow  harvest  bends. 
Where  Bsebia's  lakfe  receives  translucent  streams, 
And  o'er  the  West  a  prospect  wide  extends, 
Molossian  realms  appear  Admetus'  own; 
Close  to  th'  -ffigean  wave. 
Whose  dangerous  coast  the  sailors  brave, 

Steep  Pelion  bows  in  homage  to  bis  throne. 

Ho 

But  now>  the  tear  just  Starting  ftom  his  eye. 
He  op'd  those  portals  to  receive  ihe  guest,       i     ; 
Though  green  in  death. his  dearest  Consort  lie ; : 
For  noblest  feelingsi  syvay  th*  ingenuous  breast. 

**  NobUe  mmisueti  cessit  Oiironis  in  antnun, 
"  Irriguos  inter  saltus,  frondosaque  tecta, 
**  Pendtim  prdpe  rivnin :  ibi  saepe  sub  ili^e  nigrft 
<<  Ad  citharae  strepitnin,  bkmda  prece  victns  amid, 
.  <f,Exi||i  dttrp^lemb^tvocelabores. 
^,  Tuni  peqoe  ripa  suo,  jiaratiiro  nee  iixa  sub  imo 
**  iSaxa  stet^re  loco ;  niitat  iVacbibia  ropes, 
^  Nee  sentit  solitas,  immania  pondera,  silvas ; 
'      ^  Emotaeqoe  BObproperantdecoibbuBoniiy 
'      «  Mnlcentorque  noifo  macidoei  canmae  lyiiccs,*    v.  56-*69 . 

E  e2       ■    ' 


4C0  ALCESTIS. 

The  truest  wisdom  is  an  honest  heart. 
With  confidence  I  feel 
This  maxim  all  my  sorrows  heal ; 
*'  Heaven  to  the  good  each  blessing  shall  impartJ*^      f 

ADMETUS.  ^ 

O  ye  Pherseans,  whom  your  duteous  zeal 
Assembles  here,  my  servants  bear  the  corse 
To  its  interment,  and  the  kindled  pyre. 
But  on  your  part,  as  custom  hath  ordain'd> 
Accost  in  plaintive  notes  your  breathless  Qaeen^ 
Who  journeys  to  that  land  whence  none  return. 

CHORUS. 

Your  Father  I  behold  with  aged  step 
Advancing :  in  their  hands  his  followers  bring. 
Rich  gifts  your  breathless  Consort  to  adorn* 

PHERES,  ADMETUS^  CHORUS- 

PHERES. 

In  your  afflictions,  O  my  Son,  I  come 
To  sympathise;  for  no  man  can  deny 
Your  having  lost  the  best  and  most  discreet 
Of  all  her  sex  :  yet  such  distress,  though  hard 
To  bear,  we  must  endure.     O  take  these  robes,» 
And  to  the  ground  her  lov^d  remains  consign. 
For  each  funereal' hoikour  is  the  due 
Of  her  who  dying  from  the  grate  redeemed . 
My  dearest  S^n,  nor  suffery  me,  forloim 
And  childless,  to  consume  the  dsegs  of  life 
In  hopeless  sorrow.    Thus  to  her  whole  sex. 
By  this  one  generous  ajction,  hath  she  made 
Her  life  a  pattern  of  heroic  worth. 
Thou  who  didst  save  my  Son,  and  front  the  diislf 
Raise  us  in  our  fallen  state,  fare  Well  (14) :  may  Mis» 

(14)  <<  Here  Euripidet  acknowledgeg  tbeomnortaMty.of  tiie'sovl:  for 
<^  thus  doth  St.  laodore  cf  Peinsiiim  (|iiot)e  tlH0'|Hl8m9^  L.  iv*  Epist^ 
»"  126.    But  how  hath  Euripides,,  iwhom  ye  deem  wise,  nid^  lUxA^ 


ALCESTIS.  4181 

In  Pluto's  mansions  wait  thee.    I  pronounce 
Such  nuptials  advantagebiis  to  mankind^ 
Else  were  it  best  to  shun  the  bridal  yoke* 

ADMETUS. 

Uncaird  by  me,  on  this  funereal  rit^ 
Hast  thou  intruded ;  I  thy  presence  hold 
No  mark  of  friendship:  in  the  costly  robes 
Thou  bring'st^  ray  Wife  shall  never  be  array'd : 
Nor  at  her  burial  need  we  aught  of  thine. 
There  was  a  prdper  season  for  thy  griefsy 
When  thou  beheld 'st  me  on  the  verge  of  death. 
Wilt  thou,  who  coald'st  ignobly  stand  aloof 
Though  far  advanced  into  the  vale  of  years, . 
And  leave  a  blooming  victim  to  expire. 
Wail  o'er  lier  corse  ?  no  real  Father  thou, 
Nor  she,  the  source  whence  I  deriv'd  my  birth, 
Who  hath  assum'd  a  Mother's  honour'd  name: 
Sprung  from  some  servile  blood,  no  doubt,  by  stealth 
I  at  the  bosom  of  thy  Wife  was  plac'd. 
Soon  as  thou  cam'st  to  so  severe  a  test, 
Hast  thou  shewn  what  thou  art,  nor  can  I  think 
That  I  am  truly  thine,  for  if  I  am, 
Thou  all  mankind  in  cowardice  exceed'st* 
When  thou  wert  grown  thus  old,  and  had'st  attain'd 
This  lengthen'd  period  of  thy  life,  nor  will 
Nor  courage  had'st  thou^  in  thy  Son's  behalf 
To  lay  it  down,  altho'  ye  meanly  left 
This  foreign  Dame,  whom  henceforth  I  instead 
Of  Mother  and  of  Father  shall  revere. 
To  perish  by  th'  untimely  stroke  of  Fate. 
Dying  to  save  thy  offspring,  an  exploit 
Worthy  of  lasting  fame  hadst  thou  perfonn*d. 
For  shoft  was  the  remainder  of  the  space 
Thou  hadst  to  live :  and  hence,  till  nature  close 
The  evening  of  our  days,  had  we  enjoyed 
A  state  of  blest  existence,  nor  depriv'd 
Of  this  lov'd  Wife,  my  sorrows  bad  I  wail'd. 


422         ,  ALCESTIS. 

And  sure  the  utmost  share  of  happiness 

Which  mortals  can  attain  to  hath  been  thine; 

In  youth  a  regal  sceptre  fiil'd  thy  hand, 

And  1,  thy  Son,  was  heir  to  these  domains. 

Thou,  therefore,  hadst  not  any  ground  for  fear. 

Lest,  by  expiring  childless,  thou  this  houi^e        .         : 

Should'st  to  a  stranger*s  wasteful  rapine  leave. 

Thou  canst  not  urge,  that  thou  didst  yield  me  up 

To  death,  because  I  slighted  thy  old  age ; 

For  I  to  thee  have  ever  been  most  duteous; 

And  thus  is  filial  tenderness  repaid 

By  thee  and  by  my  Mother.     Go,  beget 

New  Sons  to  nourish  tliy  decrepid  years. 

Adorn  thy  grave  with  due  funereal  pomp, 

And  stretch  forth  thy  remains:  for  by  these  hands 

Thou  rje'er  shalt  be  interred.     Untimely  fate. 

Far  as  on  thee  depended,  was. my  lot. 

But  if  I  view  the  light,  by  having  found 

Another  k^nd  deliverer,  1,  his  Son, 

Gladly  pronounce  myself;  in  drooping  age 

Him  will  I  nourish.     With  unmeaning  prayers 

Do  aged  men  courjt  Deaths  when  they  complain 

That  they  are  old,  and  that  life's  space  is  long:  . 

But,  if  pai^  Death  draw  near,  their  wishes  change,  . 

And  they  the  weight  of  years  no  longer  feel. 

€HORUS. 

Cease  your  contention :  for  the  present  ill 
More  than  ^uffice^.  O  impetuous  Youth,  ' 
Forbear  to  irritate  your  Father's  soul. 

PHERES. 

What  arrogance  of  /speech  is  this,  my  Son? 

Think  you  these  t^unt3  wre^k'd  on  some  Lydian  slave 

Or  purchas'd  Phrygian  f  are  you  not  flppriz'd 

That  I,  with  native  freedom  blest,  was  bora 

Jn  1  hessaly,  of  a  Thessaljan  Sire? 

Having  assailed  me  with  contemptuous  words. 

Such  as  by  youthful  rashness  are  inspired/ 


ALCESTI&  4%3 

Not  thus  shall  you  escape.     I  to  a  lord 

Who  these  domains  shall  rule,  in  you  gave  birth 

And  nurture,  as  in  duty  I  wag  bound, 

But  not  for  you  to  cast  my  life  away. 

For  I  from  my  progenitors  receiv'd 

No  law  enjoining  Fathers  to  ex|>ire 

In  their  Sons'  stead,  nor  is  such  usage  known 

Among  the  Grecian  states.     You  for  yourself,  .. 

Wretched  or  blest,  were  born:  biH  all  that's  due  .    ,. 

To  you  from  me. already  you  possess;.  .,  j. 

For  you  bear  rule  (/ei*  maD3',.and  these  fields. 

These  spacious  fields  which  erst  I  from  my  Sire,    . .  •' 

Inherited,  to  you  will  I  bequeath. 

How  have  I  wrong'd,  of  what  do  I  depa^ive  yo:u?: 

Nor  die  to  rescue  me,  aor  in  your  stead  ,  ; 

Will  I  expire.     Do  you  suryey  the  light 

With  joy,  and  think  you  not  your  Fattier  fe^Js .       • 

The  same  delight?  a  ted^og^  length  of  time, 

I  deem,  we  sojourn  in  the  realms  benea^th: 

But  life,  though  short,  is  sweet :  you  to  prolong 

Its  space  have  struggled,  lost  to  virtuous  sl^aoie,      *  - 

And,  having  slain  A  Icestis,  still  exis.t  ..    •      ,-;♦ 

Beyond  that  period  which  the  pates  ordain'd. 

Me  with  a  want  of  courage  then  you  charge, 

Vile  dastard,  and  outdone  e'en  by.  this  Woman        -    :• 

Who  died  for  you,  O  most  egregious  youth. 

But  3'ou  this  scheme  have  craftily  invented, 

That  you  may  pever  die,  on  each  new  Wife^         .  :  ,i 

If  as  your  substitute,  you  can  prevail 

Still  to  become  a  sacrifice*     Yoar  friends      . 

Meantime  with  foul  reproaches  you  insuU> 

Because  they  will  not,  through  spontaneous  zeal, 

Act  that  hea'oic  generous  part  you  dread 

Ji'en  to  attempt.     Be  silent,  and  reflect^ 

That  if  you  love  to  live,  that  love  's  as  strong 

In  other  breasts  :  but  with  injurious  taunts 

If  me  you  vex,  you  in  return  shall  hear 


424     '  ALCESTIS. 

Nor  few  nor  yet  fictitious  crimes  alleg'd 
Against  yourself, 

CHORUS. 

Too  many  bitter  words 
Haye  on  both  sides  been  utter'd.     But  desist> 
Thou  hoary  Father,  nor  revile  thy  Son. 

ADMETUS. 

With  freedom  speak  as  I  do ;  but  if  truth 
Seem  grievous^  when  its  harsher  sounds  thou  h^&r'stj 
Me^  without  cause^  thou  shoqld'st  not  thus  offepdi 

PHEEE8. 

Pying  for  you,  I  sure  had  greatly  err'd, 

ADMETUS. 

Is  it  the  same  whether  a  man  expire 
la  youthful  prime,  or  bow'd  by  palsied  age  ? 

PHERES. 

Tq  piortals  one  short  life  alope  belongs. 

ADMETUS. 

O  may  thy  years  outnumber  those  of  Jove ! 

PHERES. 

Mean  you  to  breathe  forth  curses  'gainst  your  Parents^ 
By  whom  ^ow  are  not  wrong'd  ? 

ADMETUS. 

Because  I  see 

liOng  life  is  what  thou  doat'st  on. 

PHERES. 

In  your  stead 
Is  not  this  corse  to  its  interment  borne  ? 

ADMETyS. 

Hence  more  conspicuous  is  thy  abject  soqj, 
Thou  worst  of  dustards. 

PHERES. 

I  had  no  concern 
In  her  decease,  this  cannot  you  allege, 

ADMETUS. 

Of  mp  may'ist  thou  hereafter  stand  In  need. 


ALCESTfS.  4f$ 

PHERES. 

Multiply  wives,  that  others  may  expue 
On  your  hehalf. 

ADMETUS. 

This  covers  thee  with  shame ; 
Thou  didst  refuse  to  die. 

PHERE& 

These  radiant  beams 
Which  the  (15)  God  scatters,  we  all  hold  most  dear. 

ADMETUS. 

Thy  abject  soul,  on  man  reflects  disgrace. 

PHERES. 

Would  you  not  laugh  at  bearing  forth  the  cor$e 
Of  me  your  aged  father? 

ADMEl^US. 

Thy  decease, 
Come  when  it  will,  must  ever  be  inglorious. 

PHERES. 

Yojir  censures  in  the  grave  I  shall  not  heed, 

ADMETUS. 

Alas !  alas !  how  is  old  age  devoid 
Of  modesty? 

PHERES. 

Alcestis,  I  allow, 
Was  not  immodest ;  but  you  found  her  mad- 

ADMETUS. 

Peparl,  jEjnd  let  me  bury  her  remains. 

PHERES. 

I  go :  do  you,  who  are  her  murderer,  see 
To  the  funereal  rites :  for  on  your  head,  « 
No  doubt,  her  iojur'd  kindred  will  indict 

(15)  '^  That  is  to  say,  Phoebus,  who  when  spoken  of  as  the  Snn  is  fre- 
^^  quently  marked  out  in  auticnt  writers,  wittiout  any  other  distinction, 
"  as  "  tlie  GodH*  by  way  of  ^n^nence :  tlms  Dei  annus  "  the  year  of  the 
^  Qod^  in  Censorinus :  and  in  Homer,  yon  read  of  the  ishind  of  the  Sun, 

'^  0w  u;  afxufjuom  Tum  ixo^juff,    Odyss.  L.  xii.  v.  261. 

^  .We  arrived  at  the  celebrated  isltiid  of  the  God."    Dr.  Mosell. 


4e6  AtJCEsns. 

Dire  vengeance.     If  Acastas  be  a  mao. 
He  will  requite  you  for  his  sister's  blood. 

ADMETUS. 

Thou,  with  thy  execrable  wife,  avaunt. 
And,  destitute  of  children,  tho'  your  son 
Be  living,  both  grow  old  as  ye  deserve : 
For  ve  shall  never  enter  the  same  doors 
Where  I  reside :  be  gone.     If  any  law 
Allow'd  my  sending  heralds  to  command  thee 
Ne'er  to  approach  the  mansions  of  our  Sires, 
Such  interdict  I  surely  had  pronounced.   [£jd  phkhb&. 
But  I  my  present  sorrow  must  endure. 
Let  US  then  haste,  and  to  the  blazing  pyre 
Consign  the  corse. 

CHORUS. 

Unhappy,  generous,  brave. 
Most  excellent  of  all  thy  sex,  farewell. 
Thee  may  those  guardians  of  the  realms  beneath 
Hermes  and  Pluto,  courteously  receive : 
For  in  those  drear  abodes,  if  honor  wait 
On  virtue,  thou  an  ample  share  wilt  find. 
And  take  thy  seat  beside  the  Stygian  Queen. 

^Exeunt  admetus  and  chorus. 

SERVANT. 
To  many  strangers,  and  from  various  lands. 
On  their  arrival  at  Admetus'  house, 
I  well  remember  serving  up  the  feast. 
But  never  till  this  hour  have  introduc'd" 
So  profligate  a  guest,  who,  though  he  saw 
Our  master  sad,  advancing  dar'd  to  pass 
The  threshold,  and  without  discretion  took 
All  we  presented,  tho'  he  knew  our  griefs. 
Moreover,  were  there  aught  we  did  not  bring 
He  cali'd  for  it :  a  goblet  in  his  hands 
With  ivy  wreath'd,  uplifting,  quaff 'd  the  juice 
Of  the  hiack  grape  unmingled,  till  his  veins 
Were  heated  with  the  flames  of  wine,  and  bound 


AtcEsrrs.  427 


1'  ) 
I  > 


The  sprays  of  verdant  myrtle  on  his  brow,  : 

Filling  the  palace  with  a  clamorous  howl    •; 

Of  dissonances  while  twofold  sounds  were  heard ;      •  J 

Regardless  of  Admetus'  woes  he  sung,  ' 

And  for  our  Mistress  waiTd  the  menial  train. 

But  to  the  stranger  did  not  shew  our  eyes 

Swimming  with  tears,  for  such  injunction  gave 

Admetus.     I  e'en  now  perhaps  bestow  • 

This  kind  reception  on  some  subtile  thief. 

Some  robber  :  tlio'  our  Mistress  is  borne  forth 

In  slow  funereal  pomp,  nor  did  I  follow 

The  body,  nor  with  lifted  hands  bewail 

Her  loss,  who  was  to  me  and  every  servant 

A  mother:  for  she  rescued  us  from  ills 

Unnumber'd,  soothing  oft  her  angry  Lord.  i' 

Have  I  not  cause  sufficient  to  abhor 

The  guest,  on  our  affliction  who  intrudes?.  / 

HERCULES,  SERVANT. 

HERCULES. 

Ho  !  wherefore  is  thy  aspect  thus  severe^ 
Thus  thoughtful?  a  good  servant  it  behoves 
The  stranger  at  his  eotrance  to  receive,  ^ 

Not  with  a  lourins:  brow  but  courteous  soul. 
Yet  in  the  presence  of  thy  master's  friend. 
With  that  dejected  visage,  and  that  frown. 
Art  thou  thus  anxtouid  for  a  foreign  loss  ? 
Come  hither,  learn  of  me  to  be  more  wise. 
Art  thou  acquainted  well  with  the  aflFairs 
OF  mortals,  know'st  thou  what  their  nature  is? 
Not  thus  I  wisjt:  for  whence  canst  :tUou  have  gain'd 
Such  information?  therefore  bear  my  voice.. 
Death  is  a  debt  which  all  mankind  must  pay  ; 
Not  one  among  the  human  race  forekoows 
Whether  he  till  to-morrow's  sun  arise     ,  / 

Shall  yet  be  living  :  for  in  ^eprpt  paths 
.  Which  we  discern  not.  which  the  baffled  craf(,.  .    , 


•  \ 


428  ALCESTIS. 

Of  mortals  cannot  trace,  doth  Fortune  tread. 

The  doctri  nes  I  would  teach  thee,  then,  are  these ; 

Divert  thyself,  the  foaming  goblet  quaff. 

Esteem  to-day  thine  own,  but  all  beyond 

Subject  to  Fortune  ;  gratefully  revere 

Venus,  that  loveliest  of  the  Powers  above^ 

For  she's  a  Goddess  affable  and  mild. 

But  casting  off  those  other  cares,  observe 

My  counsels,  if  thou  deem  I  speak  aright. 

As,  that  thou  dost,  I  doubt  not :  from  thy  soul 

Immoderate  sorrow  banishing,  partake 

The  cheering  draught  with  me,  and  o'er  these  ills 

Victorious,  form'd  with  interwoven  flowers 

Put  on  a  wreath  :  for  I  am  well  assur'd 

That  the  brisk  motion  of  the  mantUng  bowl. 

The  gloom  dispelling  which  o'ershades  thy  brow. 

And  opening  thy  contracted  heart,  the  bark> 

Will,  thro'  the  tempest,  to  its  haven  bring. 

We,  being  men,  ought  therefore  to  adopt 

Such  notions  as  with  human  nature  suit. 

For,  if  they  ajsk  my  judgement,  ill  deserves 

The  life  of  sages  solemn  and  austere 

To  be  caird  life,  but  one  continued  scene 

Of  misery  rather. 

SERVANT. 

This  full  -^'eW  we  know: 
But  to  our  present  fortunes  are  the  banquel 
And  laughter  ill  adapted. 

HERCULES, 

The  deceas'd 
Was  of  another  nation  :  curb  thy  grief; 
For  still  the  rulers  of  this  mansion  live. 

SERVANT. 

How  !  live  they  f  you  are  uninform'd,  it  secms^ 
Of  the  calamities  this  house  endures. 

HERCULES. 

Therp,  if  thy  lord  deceived  ipe  hot,  i  kpow,     - 


ALCESTIS*  42S^ 

SERVANT, 

He  pays  too  strict  attention  to  the  rites 
Of  hospitalit}'. 

HERCULES. 

From  such  good  cheer 
Was  I,  because  a  foreigner  lay  dead. 
Bound  to  debar  myself? 

SERVANT. 

To  these  abodes 
She  closely,  yes,   too  closely  was  ally'd. 

HERCULES., 

Hath  some  calamity  befall'n  my  friend^ 
Of  which  he  told  me  not  ? 

SERVANT. 

In  peace  depart  s 
Oar  lord^s  misfortunes  interest  us  alone. 

HERCULES. 

This  speech  begins  not  with  a  foreign  woe. 

SERVANT. 

If  of  that  nature,  I  had  not  repin'd. 
Seeing  your  banquet.  , 

HERCULES. 

Hath  not  then  my  host 
lojur'd  me  horribly  ? 

SERVANT. 

You  hithel*  Came  ' 
When  we  no  fit  receptioii  could  afhtd, 
For  we  are  plung'd  in  sorrow  :  tresses  shorn. 
And  sable-tinctur'd  garments  you  behold* 

HERCULES. 

But  who  is  the  deceased  i  hath  be  then  lost 
One  of  his  children,  or  his  aged  Sire  ? 

SERVANT. 

Admetus*  Wife,  O  stranger,  is  no  more* 

•  HERCULES. 
What  say'st  thou  i  why  did  ye,  when  such  mischaQpe 
Had  just  befallen^  admit  me  aa  a  guest  2    .       ,.  ^  -r 


4S0  ALCESTIS. 

SERVANT. 

Because  he  from  these  mansions  could  not  bear 
Churlishly. to  repell  you. 

HERCULE8. 

WretchecJ  man. 
Of  wha:t  a  virtuous  Consort  art  thou  reft ! 

SERVANT. 
Not  she  alone  by  fate  is  torn  away. 
With  her  we  perish  all. 

HERCULES. 
I  did  observe 
His  weeping  eyes,  shorn  head,  and  looks  that  spoke 
Severe  affliction:  yet  on  me  he  wrought. 
Pretending  that  he  carried  to  the  tomb 
An  alien*s  corse.     1,  with  rductance,  pass'd 
The  threshold,  and  the  foaming  goblet  drained 
In  the  abodes  of  my  unhappy  host, 
Regard  myself,  jand  cover'd  o'er  these  browa 
With  garlands  :  but  the  fault  on  thee  1  charge. 
Neglecting  to  inform  ine  what  great  ill  . 

Oppressed  this  house.     But  where  hatji  he  ii^t^rr'd  ,  , 
The  body  ?   Whither  shall!  go  to  find 
Her  sepulture  ? 

SERVANT.  .  . 

Close  by  the  road  which  leads 
Strait  to  (l6)  Larissa,  you  without  the  suburbs 
Her  monumental  marble  will  behold.  ;■ 

HERCUJLES.  .  ; 

Now,  O  my  heart,  inur'd  to  manj  toils, . 
And  thou,  my  enterprizing  ?oul,  give  proof 
How  great  a  Son  in  me  Tirynthia'sfair 


(16)  There  were  two  cities  of  the  name  of  Larissa  in  Thessaly,  situated 
on  the  opposite  sides  of  Pherata,  and  it  does  not  appear  which  of  them 
is  here  meant ;  tlie  one  in  the  midland  part^of  the  country,  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Peneus,  was  founded  by  Acrisius ;  the  other  called  by  Strabo 
and  Livy  x^ffAcumi,  on  account  of  its  being  built  upon  bangidg  ground, 
was  adjacent  to  the  bay<of  Malea.    '  >   '  ci  >,.'a 


. 


ALCESTIS.  431 

Alcinena,  Daughter  of  Electryon,  bore 

To  Jove.     For  I  this  wom^n  newJy  dead 

Must  save,  and  by  establishing  afresh 

In  these  abodes,  his  dearest  Wife,  repay 

Admetus'  kindness:  therefore  will  I  go 

In  quest  of  Death,  king  of  the  shades,  who  flita 

On  sable  wings,  him  I  expect  to  find 

As  at  the  tomb  he  quaffs  the  victim's  gore. 

If  rushing  forth  from  ambush,  by  surprize 

Him  with  these  vigorous  arras  I  can  infold. 

No  power  shall  from  captivity  redeem, 

Till  he  this  Woman  loose,  the  struggling  God. 

But,  if  I  fail  of  seizing  on  this  preyy 

And  he  attend  not  at  the  hilloc  drench'd 

With  blood,  I  to  that  murky  realm  beneath 

Which  the  Sun  never  visits,  the  abode 

Of  Proserpine  and  Pluto,  will  descend. 

And  my  petition  urge,  with  a  firm  trust 

That  to  this  upper  world  I  shall  convey, 
And  place  again,  Alcestis,  in  the  arms 
Of  that  kind  host,  who  opening  wide  his  doors 
Received  me  for  a  guest;  nor  drove  aw$y, 

^  Tho'  deeply  smitten  by  such  grievous  woe,  ^ 

Which  with  a  noble  spirit  he  concealed. 
Revering  me.     Bywbat  Thessalian  chief 
Are  hospitable  deeds  like  thes^  surpass'd. 
Or  by  wbdtTam'd  inb^itant  pf  Greece  ? 
This  generous  friend  Bhalltherfifo^re  never  say 
He  on  a  worthless  man  bis  bounty  shower'd.    lExeunt, 
* ' .     '  ■     '     '    <      ■  ,    ■  ■ 

:  ADMETQS,  CHORUS. 

i      ADMBTUS. 

These  widowed  mansions,  loathing,  I  approach, 
■  And  with  affliction  view.  them.    But,  ah  me ! 
'  Ab,  whither  shall  I  go,  where  stop,  what  speak, 
\  Or  Vh^t  sirfppress,  how  end  this  hated  life? 
Me  in  an  evil  lipiir  my  l^other  bore.        . 


432  ALCESTIS. 

Happy,  thrice  happy,  I  esteem  the  deady 
Them  do  I  love,  in  their  abodes  would  dwcill* 
Joyless  I  view  the  sun,  on  earth  I  tread 
A  wretch  forlorn  :  siich  hostage  torn  away^ 
Death  in  my  stead  on  Pluto  hath  bestow'd* 

CHORUS* 
Advance  a  little  farther,  and  retire 
Within  the  palace. 

ADMETUS. 

Ah! 

CHORUS. 

What  you  endure 
Deserves  these  plaints. 

ADMEtUS. 

Woe  I  woel 
CHORUS. 

Full  well  awttre 
Am  I  that  the  severest  griefs  assail  you* 

ADMETUS. 

Alas!  alas! 

CHORUS. 

To  the  deceased,  yom*  pkititm 
Are  of  no  service. 

ADMETUS*  ' 

Wretched,  wretched  me  t' 

CHORtJSi 

That  you  must  never  more  behold  the  face     v  * 
Of  that  lovM  Consort  is  a  grief  indeed^  i 

ADMETUS.  > 

(17)  Ye  waken  the  remembrance  of  those  patfg* 
Which  harrow  up  my  soul.     What^^teater  ill 
Can  be  by  man  experienced  thtin  the  loss 

(17)  **  This  h^th  a  reference  to  Ihe  two  imihediately  )>rac^dfaigs|i«edie» 
<<  of  the  Cbortis.  -Tims  ia  it  related  in  Diogenes  LMrtpnt'  of  SoIoBy  lint 
'*  when  one  said  to  him,  **  the  weeping  for  your  deceaied  son  will  be  of 
*'  no  avail  to  you  :**  he  replied,  <<  this  is  the  veiy.  rea^ao  why  I  weep> 
'*  because  my  lamentatidos  are  of  no'  avaiL*^  ' '  BAftKii. 


ALCBS1IS.  43S 

Of  such  a  faitbfiil  Consort  ?  .Would  to  Heaven 

That  I  the  nuptial  state  had  never  known, 

Nor  dwelt  with  her  beneath  these  roofs !  TW  unwedded 

And  childless,  far  more  happy  I  esteem. 

The  griefs  which  on  our  own  account  we  feel 

Are  burdens  which  with  ease  may  be  sustain'd : 

But  the  severe  diseases  which  assail 

Our  progeny,  and  wedlock's  genial  bed 

When  rifled  by  relentless  Death,  are  sights 

Intolerable  to  those  who  might  have  liv'd 

Chiidiess  and  strangers  to  the  bridal  yoke. 

CHORUS. 

Too  strong  to  be  resisted,  cruel  Fate 
Invades  us. 

ADMETUS. 

Ah!       , 

CHORUS. 

You  set  not  any  bound 
To  your  a£9ictions. 

ADMETUS. 

Woe  is  me ! 

CHORUS. 

Their  load 
Indeed  is  grievous;  yet— 

ADMETUS. 

Wretch  that  I  am ! 

CHORUS. 
Endure  them :  nor  are  you  the  first  whose  losik^ 

ADMETUS.  '      V 

Alas!  alas! 

CHORUS. 
Hath  been  the  Wife  he  lov^d : 
For  evil  Fortune  in  &  thousand  shapes 
Harrasses  the  devoted  race  of  man. 

ADMETUS. 

O  tedious  sorrowf^  -wh^n  the  loss  oC  friend* 

VOL.  t.  r  F 


434  AIX3ESTIS* 

Who  sleep  beneath  earth's  9urracej  we  bewail. 
Why  didst  thou  hinder  me  from  plunging  down 
Into  the  sepulchre^  and  with  that  best 
Of  women  lying  there  a  breathless  corse  ? 
Instead  of  one,  had  Pluto  then  possess'd 
Two  soulsj,  distinguish'd  by  their  mutual  faitb^ 
Across  the  Stygian  lake  together  borne. 

CHORUS. 
I. 

There  was  a  kinsman  erst  of  mine 
Beneath  whose  roof  his  only  Son^ 
Deserving  of  a  father's  tears,  ^  , 

To  nature  the  last  tribute  paid : 
Yet  with  much  calmness  he  endur'd 
This  evil,  the'  no  child  vemain'd ; 
His  hair  already  was  grown  grey. 
And  he  himself  with  headlong  speed 
Advancing  into  life's  decline. 

ADMETUS. 

Thou  aspect  of  those  mansions,  ah  !  how  changed  { 
How  shall  I  enter  them,  how  bear  to  dwell 
With  Fortune,  that  inconstant !  for  the  difference 
Between  my  past  atiid  present  state's  immense. 
Erst  amid  blazing  torches  of  the  pine 
From  Pelion  hewn,  a^d  hymeneal  songs 
In  festive  poQip  I  enter'd  tl^ese  abodes 
Clasping  the  hand  of  my  dear  Bride ;  our  friends 
Join'4the  proQession,  ,an^  in  choral  strains 
Termed  the  deceased  and  nae  supremely  blest, 
Because  we  both  were  noble,  and  deriv'd 
Our  birth  on  either  side  &om  9,  long  line 
Of  ancestry  renown'4  for  virtuot^s  deeds, 
A  pair  well  matched :  but  now  the  voice  of  woe 
Harsh,  dissonant,  and  $uch  as  HymeA  }oatbcis^ 
And  sable  vests  instead  of  SHQwy  robes. 
Usher  my  gteps  to  s^  deserted  be(J[. 


ALCESTIS.  835 

CHORUS. 

IL 

Midst  prosperous  fortunes  sudden  came 
Thif  ill  on  you,  who  ne'er  before 
Had  known  the  chastening  of  distress. 
Yet  is  your  life  preserv'd  from  fate : 
Your  Wife,  expiring,  leaves*behind 
Her  much-lov'd  lord.     Can  thitf  seem  strange  ? 
Full  many  are  there  from  whose  arms 
Death  hath  already  torn  away 
The  Consort  whom  they  held  most  dear 

-.      ADMETUS. 

My  friends,  akho'  it  seem  not  thus,  I  hold 
The  fate  of  the  deceas'd  more  blest  than  mine  : 
For  sorrow  will  on  her  have  Jmve  no  effect  > 

Hereafter,  and  with  glory  is  she  freed 
From  many  toils  :  but  I,  who  have  no  right 
To  live  beyond  the  bounds  allow'd  by  fate. 
Must  practise  a  new  lesson  thro'  constraint. 
And  drag  a  life  of  bitterness  :  for  how 
Can  I  endure  to  enter  these  abodes  ? 
Whom  shall  I  speak  to,  by  what  gentle  voice 
Accosted,  cross  the  threshold  with  delight. 
Or  whither  turn  ?  The  solitary  scene 
Within,  will  overcome  me,  when  I  see 
A  widow'd  couch  of  my  lov'd  Wife  deprived. 
The  vacant  chair,  on  which  she  sat,  and  floors 
Cover'd  with  dust ;  while  groveling  roiTrid  my  knees 
Their  Mother's  death  our  helpless  (Children  wail. 
And  servants  groali  for  such  anri'stress  lost. 
These  are  the  soriows  I  at  hortte  shall  find  : 
Abroad;  the  brides  of  gay  Thes^safiin  lords, 
Andfemafe  chbirs^iH  (18)  fidiciule  my  grief : 

(18)  For  the  resL^xig  df  yfXum  "v^ch  I  teltB  /bftiitr^d,  the  edition  of 
Lascaris  and  a  Florentine  manuscript,  mentioned  by  Dr.  Musgrave,  are 
feiyatathoiities;  it'osua^  slimds  eWtilg9&lmitt;  battfoMn  eneicab^ti^^ 


536  ALCESTIS. 

For  I.shall  not  be  able  to  endure 
The  sight  of  my  deceased  Alcestis*  friends. 
Then  will  my  foes  exclaim,  '^  Observe  that  wretch 
*'  O'erwhelm'd  with  infamy,  who  still  lives  on, 
"  Who  wanted  resolution  to  meet  death, 
*'  And,  like  a  coward,  yielding  up  his  Wife, 
'^  EscapM  the  grave  ?  yet  after  this  vile  deed 
'^  Fancies  himself  a  man,  and  hates  his  Parents, 
*'  Although  he  hath  refused  to  die^'*     Such  shame 
I  to  my  woes  shall  add.     Why,  O  my  friends. 
Should  I  then  wish  to  lengthen  out  a  life 
By  foul  reproach  and  misery  thus  assail'd  ? 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

I.  1. 

Fir'd  by  my  genius  with  sublimer  views, 
In  Learning's  stores  I  found  delight ; 
Yet  nought  avaird  th*  enchantments  of  the  Muse 
Against  Necessity's  superior  might : 
Such  spells  as  guard  mankind  from  that  abhorred  disease 
In  vain  from  Thracia's  magic  tablets  sought. 
By  Orpheus'  self  remain  untaught. 
Nor  can  we  number  these 
'Mongst  antidotes  which  Paeaii  deign'd  t*  impart^ 
When  iEsculapius'  sons  acquired  the  healing  art. 

I.  2. 

The  temple  of  Necessity  alone 

Admits  no  votary,  ever  clos'd, 
No  image  of  that  Goddess  e'er  was  known. 
Still  is  she  deaf  though  victims  are  expcts'd. 
With  that  unwonted  horror  glaring  in  thy  mien- 
O  come  not  now :  for  Jove  by  means  of  thc^, . 
Doth  execute  the  strict  decree 

Which  he  bath  pass'd:  dread  Queen,   . 

the  reading  preferred  by.  Heath  and  ?ilusgrave  in  the^  nott^  and  tlie 
construction  made  use  of  in  the  Latin  versions  of  Camilhis  and  BuchaiMUk 


ALCESTIS.  437 

With  nervous  arm  thou  knapp'st  the  massive  steel, 
Nor  can  thy  harden'd  soul  shame's  gentler  influence  feel. 

II.  1. 
Thee,  O  Admetus,  hath  this  Goddess  caught. 

Bound  with  inevitable  chains  ; 
Yet  O  despair  not :  for  tears  never  wrought 
Such  wonders  as  again  to  earth's  domains 
Conducting  the  deceas'd  from  yon  infernal  shore. 
They  whom  th'  immortal  Powers  by  stealth  begot. 
In  the  cold  grave  are  doom'd  to  rot 
When  life's  short  day  is  o'er. 
Belov'd  while  present,  and  in  death  still  dear. 
Thy  matchless  Wife  this  house  for  ever  shall  revere, 

11.  2; 
Deem  not  she  sleeps  like  those  devoid  of  fame 
Unconscious  in  the  lap  of  earth : 
Such  homage  as  the  Gods  from  moitals  claim 

Each  traveller  shall  pay  her  matchless  worth ; 
Digressing  from  his  road,  and  these  bold  thoughts,exprest 
In  no  faint  language,  utter  o'er  her  grave ; 
'^  She  who  expir'd  her  Lord  to  save, 
"  Resides  among  the  blest. 
''  Hail,  aweful  Goddess,  and  this  realm  befriend." 
To  her  their  pious  vows  shall  thus  the  skies  ascend. 

But,  O  Admetus,  fam'd  Alcmena's  Son 
Seems  to  direct  his  steps  to  your  abode. 

HERCUiiES,     I^BiipiNG    A   WOMAN    VEILEP, 

ADMETUS,  CHORUS. 

HERCULES^ 

Our  thoughts,  with  manly  freedom  to  a  friend. 
Should  we  express,  nor  harbouring  in  the  soul 
Bitter  repfoofs,  a  cautious  silence  keep. 
But  when  I  in  the  midst  of  thy  distress 
Came  hither,  my  attachment  was,  I  deem'd> 
Worthy  of  being  tried :  thou  never  said'st  .k 


438  ALCESTIS. 

That  she,  who  breathless  in  the  palace  lay, 

Was  thy  Alcestis  ?  but  with  courteous  zeal, 

Receiving  me  thy  guest,  didst  seem  concerned 

For  nought  beyond  a  stranger's  loss.    I  wore 

A  chaplet,  and  libations  to  the  Gods 

Pour'd  foith  beneath  thy  inauspicious  roof. 

This  treatment,  therefore,  I  with  justice  blame; 

Yet  wish  not  to  embitter  thy  distress. 

The  real  motives  now  will  I  relate 

Which  bring  me  back  again  to  these  abodes. 

To  thy  protection  I  entrust  this  Dame, 

Till  I  return  victorious  with  the  steeds 

Of  Thrace,  the  spoils  of  slain  Bistonia's  King : 

Should  dire  mischance  befall  me,  (Oye  Gods, 

Avert  that  omen !  speed  th,e  bold  emprise  ! ) 

Her  in  thy  house  I  for  a  servai^t  give. 

She  by  a  multitude  of  toils  at  first 

Came  into  my  possession  :  for  I  found 

Kich  donors,  to  the  champions  who  proposed 

Such  terms  of  public  conflict  as  demanded 

The  most  heroic  efforts.     Her,  the  palnx 

Of  conquest,  I  obtained,  and  bore  away. 

For  to  each  victor  li^ht  of  foot,  were  given 

Fleet  coursers:  they  who  with  severer  might 

The  cestus  pois'd,  or  wrestled,  won  large  herds 

Of  oxen  ;  this  fair  (\())  Damsel,  to  augment 

The  prize  was  added,  and  in  me  it  sure 

Would  argue  a  base  spirit  to  neglect 

The  glorious  present  Fortune  hath  bestow'd. 

But  I  already  have  premised  her  claim 

(19)  In  their  arrangement  of  prizes  at  the  games,  avd  their  mode  of 
mingling  female  captives  with  other  rewards,  both  Homer  andViiigil  hove 
treated  the  Sex  with  full  as  great  a  want  of  respect  as  Euripides  ms^ 
be  thought  to  have  done,  in  saying  that  *^  The  Woman  wa^  a:dded  to  tii^ 
Oxen." 

Immediately  before  the  commencement  of  the  iiuieral  games  in  honor 
of  his  friend  Patrodus^  Achillea  brings  forth  pB^es  Itobi.  t)ie  ships^  and 


\ 


ALCESTIS.  %8£^ 

To  thy  attention,  nor  obuin'd  by  stealth 

But  honorable  prowess  hither  bring. 

My  conduct  haply  thou  at  length  ^ilt  praise. 

harangues  them  in  the  foUcnn^  maxmer,  td^h  is  somewhat  imprt^d  by 
his  translator, 

"  A  train  of  oj^en,  mnles,  and  stately  steeds, 

"  Vases  and  tripods  for  the  lun'ral  games, 

'^  Resplendent  brass,  and  more  resplendent  dames-*' 

To  the  wrestlers  he  proposes, 

Toy  h  ivu}^txe£oiV  m  afuri  rim  Aymoi * 
AyJgt  5f  ii'AxQrfli  yviaiyC  i;  fjittraw   «^i* 
TloK'Ka  d*  tniTctfo  fgyct*  Ttat  ^c  I  Teo-aajgeeSxw. 

^'  A  massy  tripod  for  the  victor  lies, 

'^  Of  twice  six  oxen  its  reputed  price, 

"  And  next,  the  losers  spirits  to  restore, 

'*  A  female  captive  valued  but  at  four/*  Pope. 

In  Virgil's  ship  race,  after  the  victor  and  the  two  who  came  ne^it  in 
succession,  had  received  an  embroidered  robe,  a  coat  of  msul,  silver  cups 
to  drink  out  Of,  and  brazen  cauldrons :  on  Sei^estus'  reaching  the  shore, 
last  of  all, 

^neas  promisso  nranere  donat 
Olli  serva  datur,  operum  baud  ignara  Mincrvse, 
Cressa  genus  Pholoe,  geminique  sub  ubere  nati. 

'*  The  promised  present  to  the  chief  he  gave ; 

''  Pholoe  the  beauteous  feniale  Cretan  slave, 

'^  In  works  of  art  superior  to  the  rest, 

'^  And  prond  of  two  fair  infants  at  the  breast."  PitT* 

The  bestowing  any  prize  on  Sergestus,  who  shattered  his  bark  agsdnst 
a  rock,  and  did  not  reach  the  port  till  after  the  distribution,  may  indeed 
be  considered  as  an  act  of  generosity  in  iEneas,  but  the  term  promisso 
munere  shows,  that  before  the  race  began,  the  competitors  were  in- 
formed what  prizes  they  should  receive,  according  to  their  coming  in, 
first,  second,  third,  or  fourth,  as  in  the  foot  race,  which  in  Virgil  imme- 
diately succeeds  that  of  the  galleys,  and  that  of  the  chariots  in  Homer. 
This  sufficiently  obviates,  on  the  one  hand,  La  Cerda's  quibble  of  homini 
imbelli  datam  in  prsinium  foeminam ;  and,  on  the  other,  tlie  idea  of  Csi- 
trou  in  regard  to  Sen;estus  being  rather  better  rewarded  than  his  adver- 
sary who  had  gained  the  start  of  him  in  the  race,  to  comfort  him  in  his 
misfortune. 


440  ALCESTIS, 

ADMETUS. 

Not  from  contempt  for  you,  or  any  want 
Of  due  respect  to  her,  did  I  conceal 
My  Consort's  hapless  fate,  but  grief  to  grief 
Would  have  been  added,  with  impetuous  step 
Had  you  retreated  hence  to  the  abodes 
Of  some  fresh  host :  for  me  was  it  enough. 
Those  woes  I  now  am  suffering,  to  bewail. 
But  I  entreat  you,  O  my  noble  Friend, 
If  possible,  consign  the  captive  Dame 
To  some  Thessalian  lord,  who  ne'er  endur'd 
Such  ills  as  I  have  done :  for  in  Phersea 
Full  many  a  courteous  host  would  ope  his  doors 
To  great  Alcides.     O  remind  me  not 
or  my  calamities :  I,  in  this  house, 
Cannot  behold  her,  yet  abstain  from  tears. 
On  me  whose  sorrows  are  already  great 
Forbear  to  heap  new  sorrows ;  for  the  load 
Which  I  endure  already,  may  suffice. 
Amid  these  mansions  where  shall  I  train  up 
This  Nymph,  whose  dress  bespeaks  her  tender  years? 
Within  the  men's  apartments  shall  she  dwell  i 
But  how  if  with  gay  youths  she  here  converse, 
Will  she  a  spotless  purity  retain  ? 
Our  headstrong  passions,  in  the  bloom  of  life, 
O  Hercules,  it  is  no  easy  task 
To  conquer  :  for  your  sake  I  exercise 
This  forethought.     Shall  I  rear  her  in  the  chambers 
Of  the  deceased  ?  but  in  Alcestis'  bed 
How  can  I  place  her  ?     The  reproach  I  fear 
Is  tworpld ;  lest  some  citizen  condemn 
My  falshood  to  my  generous  benefactress. 
And  rushing  into  this  new  Consort's  arms: 
Gi;eat  is  th'  attention  too  that  I  should  pay 
To  the  deceaa'd  Alcestis,  who  deserves 
From  me  much  reverence.     Whatsoe'er  thou  art, 
O  Woman,  know,  thy  form,  thy  graceful  mien. 


ALCESTIS.  411 

Resemble  those  of  my  departed  Wife, 
Ah  me !  i-emove,  I  by  the  Gods  conjure  you, 
Remove  that  dangerous  object  from  my  sight, 
Nor  heap  yet  more  destruction  on  the  wretch 
Who  is  destroyed  already.     For  methinks 
In  viewing  her,  I  view  my  Wife :  this  heart 
Is  seiz'd  with  strong  emotions;  from  these  ^es       * 
Fountains  of  tears  gush  forth  :  O  wretched  me, 
How  do  I  taste  the  bitterness  of  grief  I 

CHORUS. 

Indeed  I  cannot  term  thy  fortunes  blest  r 
But  thou,  O  man,  whoe'er  thou  art,  must  Jearn 
With  patience  to  endure  what  Heaven  decrees. 

HERCULES. 
Had  I  sufficient  power  to  bring  thy  Wife 
From  those  infernal  mansions  to  the  realms 
Of  dav.  such  boon  on  thee  I  would  confer. 

ADMETUS. 

Your  will  I  know :  but  how  can  you  effect 
Such  generous  purpose  ?  to  this  upper  world 
The  dead  can  ne*er  return. 

HERCULES. 

All  bounds  exceed  not. 
But  under  grief  bear  up  with  equal  soul. 

ADMETUS. 

Others  may  comfort  him,  with  greater  ease 
Than  the  poor  sufferer  can  his  fate  sustain. 

HERCULES. 

But  what  could  it  avail,  if  thou  thy  groans 
For  ever  should'st  indulge  I 

ADMETUS. 

Of  this  I  too 
Am  well  aware,  but  strong  desire  im pells  me. 

HERCULES. 

Love  for  the  dead  produces  nought  but  tears. 

ADMETUS. 

Beyond  what  I  am  able  to  express 
,  Her  loss  hath  made  me  wretched. 


44«  ALCESTK. 

HERCULES. 

Thou  hast  lost 
(Who  can  deny  it  ?)  a  most  virtuous  Wife. 

ADMETUS. 

Life  hath  for  me  no  longer  any  charms. 

HERCULES. 

Time  will  assuage  the  smart :  but  now  thy  ills 
Are  recent. 

ADMETUS. 

What  you  speak  of  Time  is  true, 
If  you  by  Time  intend  the  hour  of  death. 

HERCULES. 

Th'  attractions  of  a  lovely  Bride  will  cause 
Thy  griefs  to  cease. 

ADMETUS. 

Be  silent.    What  strange  words 
Are  these?  from  you  I  ne'er  could  have  expected-^ 

HERCULES. 

What !  art  thou  then  determin'd  not  to  wed. 
But  lead  a  widower's  solitary  life  ? 

ADMETUS. 

No  woman  shall  hereafter  share  my  couch. 

HERCULES. 

Think'st  thou  that  this  can  profit  the  deceased  ? 

ADMETUS. 

Where'er  she  be,  my  reverence  she  deserves. 

HERCULES. 

I  in  her  praises  join."    But  sure  thou  act'st  ^ 
An  Ideot's  part. 

ADMETUS. 

You  never  shall  accost 
Me  by  the  name  of  Bridegroom. 

HERCULES. 

I  applaud 
Thy  conjugal  fidelity. 

ADMETUS. 

May  Death 


ALCESTIS*  448 

Overtake  me,  tho*  no  longer  she  exist. 
If  I  to  her  prove  false  ! 

HERCULES. 

Into  thy  house 
Now  take  this  noble  Damsel. 

ADMETUS. 

,    I,  by  Jove 
Your  Sire,  entreat  you,  wave  such  strange  request^ 

HERCULES. 

If  thou  comply  not,  thou  wilt  greatly  err. 

ADMETUS. 

But,  if  I  yield,  remorse  will  gnaw  my  heart. 

HERCULES. 

Submit :  perhaps  thou  wilt  have  done  a  kindness 
Most  opportune. 

ADMETUS. 

Would  you  had  never  gained 
This  prize ! 

HERCULES. 

To  thee  my  triumphs  appertain ; 
For  with  thy  friend  thou  sbar'st  the  victor's  meed. 

ADMETUS. 

Most  nobly  have  you  spokeu  :  but  dismiss 
The  woman. 

HERCULES. 

If  she  must,  she  shall  depart : 
But  whether  this  be  necessary,  first 
Consider  well. 

ADMETUS. 

It  must  be  so,  if  you 
Will  not  b^  aogry  with  iKie. 

H6HGULE3. 

Well  I  know 
The  cause  which  in  my  bc^st  excites  this  zeal. 

ADMETUS. 

Enjoy  the  triumph  which  you  now  obtain, 
Though  I  ygiUt  cojgiduct  cannot  but  dislike. 


444  ALCESTIS. 

HERCULES. 

Hereafter  shalt  thou  praise  me;  only  yield, 

ADMETUS  TO  THE  CHORUS. 

Attend  her  to  the  palace^  if  my  doors 
Must  needs  admit  her. 

HERCULES. 

To  thy  servants'  care 
I  will  not  tru3t  her. 

ADMETUS, 

If  you  list,  yourself 
To  her  apartment  lead  the  captive  Dame« 

HERCULES. 

Into  thy  hands  this  pledge  will  I  consign. 

ADMETUS. 

I  will  not  introduce  her ;  but  this  house 
She  with  my  leave  may  enter. 

HERCULES. 

Her  to  thee 
Have  I  entrusted,  and  to  thee  alone. 

ADMETUS. 

Against  my  will  you  urge  me  to  proceed. 

HERCULES. 

With  courage  take  the  stranger  by  her  hand. 

ADMETUS. 
Horrors  I  feel,  as  if  I  were  ordain'd 
To  grasp  the  newly  sever^  Gorgon's  head. 

HERCULES. 

Say,  do'st  thou  hold  her? 

ADMETUS. 

Yes  I  hold  her  fast. 

HERCULES,  taking  off  the  VeU. 

With  care  preserve  her,  and  in  future  times 
Thou  wilt  proclaim  that  he  who  sprung  from  Jove 
Hath  been  a  noble  guest.     Observe  her  face. 
If  it  resemble  thy  departed  Wife  : 
Blest  as  thou  art,  no  longer  grieve. 

ADMETUS, 

Ye  Gods! 


ALCESTIS.  445 

What  shall  I  say  ?   a  miracle  like  this 
Was  most  unhop'd  for.     But  do  I  indeed 
Behold  my  Wife  ?  or  would  some  fraudful  God 
Surprize  my  senses  with  ideal  joy  f 

HERCULES. 

Not  thus:  in  her  thou  view*st  thy  real  Wife. 

ADMETUS. 

Look  to  it,  lest  this  be  some  spectre  sent 
From  the  infernal  regions. 

HERCULES, 

For  thy  guest, 
Thou  no  vile  (20)  Sorcerer  hast  in  me  received. 

(20)  In  the  original  the  ^erm  which  I  have  rendered  Sorcerer  is 
^vx^ocywyo;,  the  literal  interpretation  of  which  is  '*■  one  who  calls  forth 
"  the  souls  of  the  dead."  Barnes,  Dr.  Morell,  and  Dr.  Musgrave,  all 
concur  in  translating  it  pi  so&tigiator.  The  Schohast  speaks  of  Thessaly  as 
renowned  for  these  impostors,  and  refers  us  to  Plutarch,  who  has  much 
on  the  subject,  particularly  in  liis  treatise  ''  on  those  who  are  at  length 
**  overtaken  by  Divine  vengeance,'*  in  the  foho  edition,  Paris,  1624, 
V.  II.  p.  555,  and  560 ;  in  the  latter  of  these  passages  he  says  that 
**  when  the  Spartans  were  ordered  by  the  oracle  to  appease  the  soul  of 
"  Pausanias,  Sorcerers  sent  for  from  Italy,  having  offered  sacrifice,  re- 
*^  moved  the  Apparition  from  tlie  temple."  So  it  seems  the  Aoraar  of  pro- 
ducing these  personages  was  not  confined  to  any  one  particular  country, 
and  that  they  undertook  to  lay  as  well  as  raise  Ghosts  conformably  to  tlie 
eiuimple  of  Mercury, 

Turn  virgam  capit :  hac  animas  ille  cvocat  Oreo 
Pallentes,  alias  siib  tristia  Tai'tara  mittit. 

Virgil  jEn.  L.  iv.  v.  5^42. 

But  first  he  grasps  within  his  aweful  hand, 
The  mark  of  sov'reign  power,  his  magick  wand  : 
With  tliis  he  draws  the  Ghosts  from  hollow  graves, 
With  this  he  drives  tliem  down  the  Stygian  waves. 

Dryden. 

Aristc^hanes,  who  seizes  every  occasion  of  turning  into  ridiqule  tlic  wis- 
dom and  virtues  of  Socrates,  says  of  him  in  his  Comedy  of  the  Bird0| 
V.  1652,* 

"  but  aiiiong  the  Sciapodes  there  is  'a.  ceftaui  impure  lake  where  Socratet 
"  calls  forth  souls  from  Hell.*    Ai  ^the  Sttapodes  are  a  nation  not  ieaniy 


%46  ALCESTlSi 

AEMETUS. 

But  do  I  see  that  Consort  I  interred? 

HERCULES. 

The  aame,  he  well  assur'd  ?  I  wonder  not, 
However,  if  thou  still  distrust  thy  fortune. 

ADMETUS, 

Her  as  my  living  Wife  may  I  embrace, 
May  I  accost  ? 

HERCULES. 

To  her  with  freedom  speak  : 
For  thou  thy  utmost  wishes  hast  obtained- 

ADMETUS. 

Ye  well  known  features,  and  thou  graceful  form 
Of  my  lov'd  Consort !  thee  these  arms  infold 
When  I  could  ne*er  have  hop'd  to  see  thee  more. 

HERCULES. 

She  now  is  thine ;  thro'  envy  may  no  God 
Impair  thy  bliss! 

ADMETUS. 

Illustrious  Son  of  Jove, 
Be  prosperous  fortunes  yours;  and  may  that  Sire 
Protect  you  who  begot ;  for  you  alone 
Have  re-establish'd  me.     But  from  the  shades 
How  did  you  bring  her  to  this  upper  world  ? 

HERCULES. 

By  furiously  encountering  the  stern  King 
Of  disembodied  ghosts. 

ADMETUS. 

Twixt  you  and  Death, 
Where,  say  j'ou,  was  this  stubborn  battle  fought? 

met  ^th  in  Geographical  writers,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  subjimi  the  a^ 
comitgiven  of  them  by  the  Scholiast  of  AiBtbphanes^  who  detrnt  tfaek* 
name  from  <nua  a  shadow,  and  wg  a  foot,  and  says  Uiey  were  sitoalMl  oa 
the  shores  of  Uie  Western  ocean  under  the  torrid  lone,  that  the  soles  of 
tiieir  feet  are  said  to  be  hirger  than  tlieir  whole  body;  being  destitute  of 
booses,  and  exposed  to  the  heat  of  the  snn,  they  walk  in  the  mamies  «f 
beastly  and  hold  up  one  foot  to  skreen  themselves. 


ALCfiSTlS.  447 

HERCULES. 

T'rom  ambush  at  the  tomb  I  sprung,  and  grasp'd' 
The  Tyrant  in  my  arms. 

ADMETUS. 

But  why  thus  mute 
Yet  stands  my  Wife  ? 

HERCULES. 

Thou  must  not  hear  her  voice 
Till  those  sepulchral  rites  have  been  annuU'd^ 
By  which  she  to  the  Gods  of  Hell  beneath 
Was  rendered  sacred,  and  the  radiant  morn 
For  the  third  time  arise.     Conduct  her  steps 
Into  the  royal  mansion,  and  do  thou. 
Who  art  already  eminently  just. 
Hereafter  with  the  same  benignant  zeal 
Treat  strangers,  O  Admetus.    Now  farewell. 
For  I  must  go  to  execute  those  labors 
(21)  My  King  the  Son  of  Sthenelus  ordainM. 

ADMETUS. 

With  us  prolong  your  stay,  a  welcome  guest. 

HERCULES. 

I  at  a  future  season  will  return ; 
But  now  must  1  exert  my  utmost  speed. 

ADMETUS. 

With  victory  by  propitious  fortune  crown'd 
At  these  abodes  may  you  again  arrive ! 
But  I  these  mandates  issue  thro'  our  realm 


(21)  *^  The  genealogy  of  Eurysfheus  is  as  follows ;  Perseus  was  the 
*'  son  of  Jupiter  and  Danae,  Sthenelus  of  Perseus  and  Andromeda; 
"  from  Stiienelus  and  Archippe,  or  (as  Apollodorus  calls  her),  Nicippe, 
«  spnmg  Enrystheus.  When  Hercules  was  on  the  pomt  of  being 
*'  bom,  Jupiter  swore  in  the  council  of  the  Gods,  that  there  should 
''  tiiat  very  day  come  into  the  world  a  descendant  of  Perseus  who 
''  should  reign  at  Mycene.  Upon  which,  Juno,  through  envy,  pre- 
<<  vailed  on  Eilithya  to  delay  the  delivery  of  Alcmena,  and  cause  the 
^  wife  of  Stiienelus,  who  was  only  seven  months  gone  with  child,  to 
'^  bear  a  Son.'*       Barnes  and  Apolloporvs. 


448 


ALCESTIS. 


To  citizen  and  (22)  tetrarch,  that  with  feast 
And  choral  dance  this  blest  event  they  gracc^ 
Let  the  rich  incense  on  each  altar  rise 
And  oxen  expiating  victims  bleed. 
For  now  I  to  the  haven  of  a  life. 
Better  than  what  I  knew  before,  have  steer'd 
My  bark,  and  own  myself  a  happy  man. 

CHORUS. 

A  thousand  shapes  our  .varying  Fates  assume. 
The  Gods  perform  what  we  could  least  expect, 
And  oft*  the  things  for  which  we  fondly  hop'd 
,  Come  not  to  pass :  but  Heaven  still  finds  a  clue 
\  To  guide  our  steps  through  life's  perplexing  maze, 
I  And  thus  doth  this  important  business  end. 

(22)  "  Tlie  whole  extent  ^of  Tiiessaly  is  divided  into  four  part*.  TTit 
"  provinces  of  Phthia,  Estrxotis,  Thessaliotis,  or  Thessalia  Propria 
*  and  Felasgiotis.*'    Strabo, 


ANDROMACHE. 

I 

No8  patrifii  incenslL  diveraa  per  asqnom  ^ecte 
Stirpis  Achilleae  fastns,  JQTOiemqne  superbimi 
fiemtio  eoixse  tolimiit :  qui  deinde  secatns, 
IMmam  Henmoneiii,  Lac«d»iiioiiiotqa«  bymtniHt*-*. 


VOL,  t*  O  O 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA. 


ANDROMACHE. 

ATTENDANT.  .    . 

CHORUS  OF  PHTHIAN  WOMEN. 

HEBMIONE. 

MENELAUS. 

MOLOSSUS. 

PEMEUS. 

NtJRSE  OF  HERMIONE. 

ORESTES. 

MESSENGER. 

THETIS. 

SCENE— THE  VESTIBULE  OF  THETIS'  TEMPLE  BET\FEEN 
PHTIHA  AND  PHARSAUA  IN  THESSALY. 


ANDROMACHE. 


ANDROMACHE. 

vJ  Thebes  (1)  thou  pride  of  Asia,  from  whose  gate 

I  came  resplendent  with  a  plenteous  dower. 

To  Priam's  regal  house,  the  fniitful  Wife 

Of  Hector:  his  Andromache  was  erst 

An  envied  name:  but  now^  am  I. more  wretched 

Than  any  woman,  or  already  born, 

Or  to  be  born  hereafter ;  for  I  saw 

My  husband  Hector  by  Achilles  slain. 

And  that  unhappy  son  whom  to  my  lord 

I  bore,  Astyanax,  from  Troy's  high  towers 

Thrown  headlong ;    when  our  foes  had  sack'd  the  city. 

Myself  descended  from  a  noble  line 

Of  freeborn  warriors,  reach'd  the  Grecian  coast. 

On  Neoptolemus  that  (2)  island  prince 

For  the  reward  of  his  victorious  aims 

Bestowed :  selected  from  the  Phrygian  spoils. 

Twixt  Phthia  and  Pharsalia,  in  these  fields, 

I  dwell,  where  Thetis  from  the  haunts  of  men 

(1)  The  Thebes  here  spoken  of  is  not  the  famous  city  of  that  name  on- 
tfae  banks  of  the  Nile  called  Hecatompyke,  from  its  hundred  gatea^ 
'which  some  readers  may  at  first  sight  be  induced  to  suppose  from  the  an* 
tient  Greographers  having,  as  Cluverius  observes,  taken  Egypt  into  Asia 
instead  of  Africa ;  but  this,  which  stands  fourth  of  the  nme  Thebeses, 
enumerated  by  Stephanus  Byzantinus,  was  a  Citidan  city  of  inferior 
note,  where  reigned  Action  tlie  father  of  Andromache;  its  deitntctioli 
by  the  Grredan  arms,  Homer  has  repeatedly  mentioned  in  the  Uiad. 

(2)  Scyros,  the  place  where  Neoptolemus  was  bom,  a  small  and  in- 
considend>le  island  in  the  iEgean  sea  (Zxu^  ult^M  tiOns*  ▼•  209.)  is  here 
contemptaoaslyalhided  to:  AehiUes  being  oonvey'd  thither  by  Thetii, 
disguised  in  female  apparel,  to  prevent  his  gomg  to  the  «i%e  of  Troy, 
had  an  amour  with  Deidamia  dau^ter  of  Lycomedes  k|ng  of  the  island, 
the  firint  of  which  was  Pynhns,  (or  as  Euripides  conitantly  calls  him) 
Neoptfriemiis,  ... 

O  G  2 


452  A>iDROMACHE. 

Retreatini?,  ^vith  her  Peleus  erst  abode. 
By  Thessaly's  inhabitants,  this  spot 
Is  from  th'  auspicious  nuptials  of  that  Goddess 
Caird  Thetidaeuiu  :  here  Achilles'  son 
Residing,  suffers  Peleus  still  to  rule 
Pharsalia's  land,  nor  will  ussume  the  sceptre 
While  lives  his  aged  grandsirc.     In  these  walls 
A  son,  who  to  th'  embraces  of  my  lord 
Achilles'  oSpring,  owes  his  birlh,  I  bore, 
And  tho'  I  had  been  wretched,  a  fond  hope 
Still  cherish'd,  that  while  yet  the  boy  was  safe 
I  some  protection  and  relief-  might  find 
In  my  calamities  ;    but  since  my  lord 
(Spurning  my  servile  couch)  that  Spartan  dame 
Hermione  espoused,  with  ruthless  hate 
By  her  am  I  pursued ;   for  she  pretends 
That  I,  by  drugs  endued  with  magic  power, 
Administered  in  secret^  make  her  barren 
And  odious  to  her  lord,  because  I  wish 
To  occupy  this  mansion  in  her  stead. 
And  forcibly  to  drive  her  from  his  couch. 
To  which,  at  first  1  with  reluctance  came. 
But  now  have  left  it :  mighty  Jove  can  witness 
That  I  became  the  partner  of  his  bed 
Against  my  own  consent.     But  she  remains 
Deaf  to  conviction,  and  attempts  to  slay  me,: 
In  this  design  her  father  Menelaus 
Assists  his  daughter,  he  is  now  within> 
And  on  such  errand  left  the  Spartan  realm  : 
Fearing  his  rage^  I  near  the  palace  take 
My  seat,  in  Thetis'  temple,    that  the  Goddess 
From  death  may  save  me ;  for  both  Peleus*  self^ 
And  the  descendants  of  that  mon^krch,  hold 
This  structure  rear'd  in  memory  of  his  wedlock 
With  the  fftirNei;eid,  in  reKgious  awe. 
But  hence^  in  secret,  trembling  for  his  life. 
My  only  child  have  I  conveyed  away. 


ANDROMACHE.        '45S 

Because  his  noble  father  is  not  present 
To  aid  me^  and  avails  not  now  to  guard 
His  son,  while  absent  in  the  Delphic  land, 
To  expiate  there  the  rage  with  which  he  sought 
The  Pythian  tripod,  and  from  Phcebus  claim'd 
A  reparation  for  his  Father's  death. 
If  haply  he  can  deprecate  the  curses 
Attendant  on  his  past  misdeeds,  dnd  make 
The  God  propitious  to  his  future  days. 

FEMALE  ATTENDANT,  ANDROMACHE. 

ATTENDANT. 

My  Qaeen,   for  still  I  scruple  not  to  use 
The  same  respectful  title,  which  I  gave  you 
When  we  in  liion  dwelt;  you  and  your  lord 
While  he  was  living,  shared  my  duteous  love. 
And  now  I  with  important  tidings  fraught 
To  you  am  come^   trembling  indeed  lest  one 
Of  our  new  rulers  overhear  the  tale. 
Yet  greatly  pitying  your  disastrous  fate ; 
For  Menelaus  and  his  Daughter  form 
Dire  plots  against  you ;  of  these  foes  beware. 

HECUBA. 
O  my  dear  fellow-servant,  (for  thou  shar'st 
Her  bondage  who  was  erst  thy  Queen,  but  now 
Is  wretched,)  ha !  what  mean  they  ?  what  fresh  schemes 
Have  they  devis'd  to  take  away  my  life. 
Who  am  by  woes  encompass'd? 

ATTENDANT. 

/  They  intend, 

O  miserable  dame,  •  to  kill  your  son. 
Whom  privately. you  from  this  house  convey'd. 

HECUBA. 

Are  they  informed  I  sent  the  child  away  ? 
Ah  me '.  who  told  them  i   in  what  utter  ruin 
Am  I  iavojv'd ! 


4,54'         ANDROMACHE. 

ATTENDANT. 

I  know  not ;   but  thus  much  . 
or  their  designs  I  heard;  in  quest  of  him 
Is  Menelaus  from  these  doors  gone  forth. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Then  am  I  lost  indeed:  for,  O  my  child. 
These  two  relentless  vultures  mean  to  seize  thee> 
And  take  away  thv  life,  while  he  who  bears 
A  father's  name,  at  Delphi  still  remiains. 

ATTENDANT. 

You  had  not  far'd  so  ill,  I  am  convinc'd> 
If  he  were  present,  but  now  ev^ry  friend 
Deserts  you. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Is  there  not  a  rumour  spread  '    ; 

Of  Peleus'  coming  ? .  ;        ' 

ATTENDANT. 

.^    He,:  tho'  he  wer^  here,  . 
Is  grown  too  old  to  aid  you. 

ANDROMACHE; 

.  .  More  than  once 
I  sent  to  him. 

ATTENDANT. 

.  'Suppose  you  that  he  heeds 
None  of-  yoar  meissengers  f  i ; 

ANDROMACHE. 

What  means  this,  question  f 
Wilt  thou  accept  such  office?  » 

ATTENDANT. 

What  pretext 
To  colour  my  long  absence  fi:om  this  hoM$e    •    V 
Shall  I  ^legef.  ./      .  ,;..;  ,   .     •..  ,         ;  . 

ANI>ROjyiA0HE. 

EuU  m^iay  ^ra. the  $cfhen^e$  ..^  ^  /.-,  - ; ; 
Which  thou,  whoart  a  woman,  c^ti  deyfi3e>!  .  i 

ATTENDANT.  '  V/         '  '.;. 

Twere  dangerous;  for  Hermione  is  watchful. 


ANDR0MAGH6.  4S5 

ANDROMACHE, 

Dost  thou  perceive  the  danger,  and  renounce 
Thy  friends  in  their  distress? 

ATTENDANT. 

Not  thus :  forbear 
To  brand  me  with  so  infamous  a  charge  :  ' 

I  go ;  for  of  small  value  is  the  life 

(Whate  er  befall  me)  of  a  female  slave. 

[£x/f  ATTENDANT. 
ANDROMACHa 

Proceed :  meanwhile  I  to  the  conscious  air    . 
Those  plaints  and  bitter  wailings  will  repeat, 
On  which  I  ever  dwell.     Unhappy  women 
Find  comfort  in  perpetually  talking  ' 

Of  what  they  suffer.    l5ut  my  groans  arise 
Not  from  one  ill,  but  many  ills;  the  walls 
Of  my  lov'd  country  ras'd,  ray  Hector  slain. 
And  that  hard  Fortune,  in  whose  yoke  bound  fast. 
Thus  am  I  fallen  into  th'  unseemly  state  * 

Of  servitude.     We  never  ought  to  caH 
Frail  mortals  hnppy,  at  their  latest  hoiir 
Till  we  behold  them  to  the  shades  descend* 


i-  , 


ELEGY. 

In  Helen  sure,  to  Troy's  imperial  towers 
Young  Paris  wafted  no  engaging  Bride, 

But  when  be  led  her  to  those  nuptial  bowers. 
Some  Fiend  infernal  cross'd  the  billowy  tide. 

With  brandiih'd  javelin  and  devduring  flame. 
For  Ker  the  Grecian  warriors,  to  thy  shore, 

O  ilion,  in  a  (S)  thousand  vessels  came. 
And  drench'di  thy  smpuld^ripg  battlements  with^ore. 


(3)  ^  A  fixed  niiiiiber  fbr  an  nncerttfii' :  Ibr'HiJmer  states  the  BiVy  6f 
•♦  tfte  Gteeks  >a  cdnsistiiig  cf  if 86  teliips ;  ^Pftrtairdi  calls  thcni  "iViO-^  tb« 
^'  Scholiast  1170 :  in  otiier  writers  more  varfii<ioWj"i>ccur.-l^    * "    "*  '^ 


456  ANDROMACHE. 

(4)  Around  the  walls,  my  Hector,  once  thy  boast^ 
Fix'd  to  his  car,  was  by  Achilles  borne. 

And  from  m v  chamber  hurried  to  the  coast 
I  veird  my  head  in  servitude  forlorn. 

^  usually  accord  in  the  number  of  one  thousand,  as  Euripides  tp  both 
'<  the  IphigeniaSy  Rhesus  and  Electra:  Lycophron,  v.  210. 

XiCd  in  a  thousand  ships  that  vengeful  host 

Virgil,  ^En.  L.  2.  v.  197. 

'^  Quos  neque  Tydides,  nee  Larissxus  Achilles 

'^  Non  anni  domuere  decern,  non  milie  carinas. 

"  Wl^at  Diomede,  nor  Thetis*  greater  Son, 

'^  A  thousand  ships,  nor  ten  years  siege  had  done.  DKYBE^r. 

"  Ovid  Met.  L.  12.  v.  6. 

"  ConjurataBque  sequuntnr 
<<  Mille  rates. 

<<  A  thousand  ships  were  mann'd  to  sail  the  sea.    '         Dhyden. 

'^  Danaum  Euboico  littore  mille  rates. 

PROPERT.  L.  2.  £1.  ^6.  ▼.  38. 
In  one  vast  fleet,  a  thousand  ships,  the  boast 
Of  Greece,  assembled  near  £ub(ca*s  coast. 

^^  Rex  ille  regum,  ductor  Agamemnon  ducum, 

^'  Cujus  secutse  mille  vexillum  rates.  Sen^ca^  A|(.  y.  39. 

That  king  of  kings,  of  mighty  chiefs  that  chief, 
Illustrious  Agamemnon,  who  displayed 
His  banners,  followed  by  ^  thousand  ships. 

''  ^chylus  too  in  his  Agamemnon,  v.  46. 

'^  A  thousand  ships,  the  Argive  fleet."        Potter,       Barnes. 

(4)  '^  Here  the  Scholiast  with  propriety  observes  t!iat  Eoripides  ex- 
<'  ceeds  the  history  in  saying  that  Hector  was  ^dragged  around,  the  walls  -, 
^^  for  Homer  mentions  no  such,  thing,  but  says  he  was  dragged  from  the 
*^  walls  to  the  ships  (nor  yet  thrice  round  the  funeral  pyre  of  Patfodys, 
«  as  the  Scholiast  assorts);  Virgil  therefore  hi^th  alsp  cpmrnitted  an  error 
"  when  he  sings,  lEji,  L.  1.  v.  488. 

"  Ter  circum  Iliacos  raptaverat  Hectora  m^ros. 

'^  Thrice  round  tiie  Trojaioi  walls  Achilles  dr6w  '■  '     •  ■ 

*^  The  corps  of  Hector,  whom  in  fight  he  slew.  Dryden. 

^f  but  the  mistake  arose  ffom  hence,  that  Hector,  wl^e  living,  is  ^d 
J^',  by  Homer  to  have  gone  thrice  r^find  the  wall?  of  Troy  in  his  ^ght 
.^  UpomA^MQes."    Barnes. 


\v^^ 


ANDROMACHE.  457 

Much  wept  these  streatning  eyes^  when  in  the  dust 
My  City,  Palace^  Husband^  prostrate  lay. 

Subject  to  fierce  Hermione's  disgust, 
,  Why  should  I  still  behold  the  hated  day  ? 

Harrass'd  with  insults  from  that  haughty  dame, 
Round  Thetis*  bust  my  suppliant  arms  I  fling. 

And  here  with  gushing  tears  bewail  my  shame. 
As  from  the  rock  bursts  forth  the  living  spring. 

CHORUS,  ANDROMACHE. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 

T.     1. 
O  thou,  who,  seated  in  this  holy  space, 
tiast  Thetis'  temple  thy  asylum  made, 

Tho'  Phthia  gave  me  birth,  to  aid 
Thee,  hapless  Dame  of  Asiatic  race, 
I  hither  come;  would  I  from  direful  harms 
Could  guard,  could  heal  the  strife 
Twixl  thee  and  that  ii>dia:nant  Wife 
Hermione,  whom  ruthless  discord  arms 
To  punish  thee  the  rival  of  her  charms, 
A  captive,  to  the  genial  bed. 
Who  by  Achilles*  son  wert  led. 

I.     2. 
Aware  of  fate,  th'  impending  evil  weigii, 
A  helpless  Phrygian  nymph,  thou  striv'st  in  vain  ^ 

'Gainst  her  of  Sparta's  proud  domain : 
Cease,  to  this  sea-born  Goddess,  cease  to  t)ray,^ 
And  at  her  blazing  shrine  lio  longer  9tay  ; 
For  how  cant  it  avail 
To  thee  with  hopeless  sorrow  pale 
To  suffer  all  thy  beauties  to  decny. 
Because  thy  rqlers  v^ith  oppression  sway  ? 
Thod  to  superior  might  must  bend. 
Why,  feeble  as  thou  art,  Cgntrad  ? 


A 


•  •  \. 


458  ANDROMACHE. 

•n.    1. 

Yet  hasten  from  the  Nereid's  lofty  seat. 
Consider  that  thou  tread'st  a  foreign  plain. 

And  that  these  hostile  walls  detain 
In  strictest  bondage  thy  reluctant  feet. 
Here  none  of  all  those  friends,  that  numerous  band, 
.    Who  shared  thy  greatness,  is  at  hand. 
To  clieerthee  in  these  days  of  shame, 
O  wretched^  wretched  Dame. 

*  II.     2. 

A  miserable  matron  thou  art  come 
From  Troy  to  our  abodes^  unwilling  guest ; 
Tho'  mine  the  sympathizing  breast, 
Yet  I  thro'  reverence  to  our  lords  am  dumb. 
Lest  she,  who  springs  from  Helen,  Child  of  Joye,  - 
Should  be  a  witness  of  that  love  ; 

Which  I  to  thee  whose  griefs  I  share^ 

Impeird  by.  pity  bear.  <■'■■-.■    l 

HERMIONE,  ANDROMACHE,  CHORUS.     .^ 

HERMIONE. 

The  gorgeous  ornaments  of  gold,  tlibese  brpw^    .  ;;; 
Encircling,  and  the  tissued  robes  I  wear,   ; 
I  from  Achilles',  or  from  Peleus' stores. 
As  chosen  presents  when  I  hither  came,  ' 

Ileceiv'd  not,  but  from  Sparta's  realm,  these  gifts 
My  Father  Menelaus  hatl\  bestow'd  . , 

With  a  large  dower,  that  I  might  fteely  speak.    .       >^ 
Such  is  the  answer  whjch  to  you  I  make, 
O  Phthian  Dames.   ^  But  tjiou,  who  art  a  slave  .  ^ 

And  captive,  would'st  in  these.abodes  usurp        *    . 
Dommion,  and  expeU  mie;  to. pay  Lord    .   ,: 
Thy  drugs  have  made  me  pdious,  hen?^  ?ii3uc^ 
My  barrenness;  the  Asiatic  Dames,  *  ,>     .  -r,         r 

For  these  abhorr'd  deyic^  are  renown'd j    ,^.  ,   ^  .  ^,.  j 
But  thee  will  I  subdue,  nor  shall  tl^js  dome,,,  r 
Of  the  immortal.Ne/pi§l,  nor  her  altar..*  ; 

Or  temple  save  thee  from  impending  death'. 


ANDROMACHE.  43y 

If  eithec  mau  or  God  should  be  disposed 
To  rescue  the^,  'twere  fit,  iluit  to  atone 
For  the  proud  thoughts  thou  ia  thy  happier  days 
Didst  nourish,  thou  shouid'st  tremble,  at  my  knees. 
Fall  low,  and  sweep  the  pavement  of  my  house,         -^ 
Sprinkling  the  waters  froni  a  golden  um.  j 

Know  where  thou  art :  no  Hector  governs  here. 
No  Phrygian  Priam  doth  this  sceptic  wield ; 
This  is  no  (5)  Chrysa,  but  a  Greoian  city. 
Yet  thou,  O  wretched  woman,  art  arriv'd 
At  such  a  pitch  of  madness,  that  thou  dar'st 
To  sleep  e'en  with  the  Son  of  him  who  slew  ; 

Thy  Husband,  and  a  brood  of  children  bear 
To  him  whose  hands  yet  reck  with  Phiygian  gore, 
Such  is  the  whole  abhorr'd  Barbarian  race  ;  » 

The  Father  .with  his  Daughter,  the  vile  Son 
With  his  own  Mother,  with  her  Brother  too 
The  Sister,  sins,  friends  by  their  dearest  friends 
Are  murder'd  ;  deeds  like  these  no  wholesome  law    . 
Prohibits  :  introduce  not  among  usi 
Such  crimes,  for  'tis  unseemly  thiat  one  man 
Possess  two  women :  the  fpnd  youth  who  seeks 
Domestic  harmony,  confines  his  Ipve 
To  one  fair  partner  of  the  genial  bed. 

CHORUS. 

The  female  sex  are  envious,  and  pursue  Itj^"^ 

With  an  incessant  hatred  those  who  shale  / 

Their  nuptial  joys.  v 

ANDROMACHE. 

Alas !  impetuous  youth  .    .  O 

•      '  ...  ,  •     ..  ;Mf  A, 

(5)  The  conjectural  alteration  of  yj^van  'f  the  city  Chrysa,'*  instead  ipf 
of  x^jf^  "  go)<^/  suggested  first  by  Petitus  in  his  miscellaneous  obser-^ 
vations,  and  srflerwards  adbpted  by  Bantes,  appears' to  me'so  mdmfe^ 
an  improvement,  that  I  litfve  not  scmj^led  to  avail  myself  of  it,  tliob^ 
Dr.  Musgrave  has  in  his  edition  rejected  it'  as  ntanecessary,  and  Maijkr 
land  and  Bmnck  read  instead  of  v^c  XS^y  ^  Zaxp^9  ^^  dives  ilieJEhrjja* 
.  mus,  virhich  seems  to  be  as  mere  a  conjecture  as  the  former,  but  a  mmi^ 
less  happy  one.        '',''. 


400  ANDROMACHE. 

Proves  baleful  to  mankind,  and  there  are  none 

Who  act  with  justice  in  their  blooming  years. 

But  what  I  dread  is  this,  lest  slavery  curb 

My  tongue,  tho*  I  have  many  truths  to  utter,;  ' 

In  this  dispute  with  you,  if  I  prevail, 

That  very  triumph  may  become  my  bane: 

For  those  of  haughty  spirits  ill  endure 

The  most  prevailing  arguments  when  urg*d 

By  their  inferiors.    Yet  my  better  cause 

I  will  not' thus  betray.     Say,  youthful  Princess, 

What  reasons  of  irrefragable  force 

Enable  me  to  drive  you  from  the  couch. 

Of  your  own  lawful  husband  i  to  the  Phrygian^ 

Is  Sparta  grown  inferior,  and  hath  Fortune 

On  us  conferred  the  palm  ?  do  you  behold  me 

Still  free  ?  elate  with  youth,  a  vigorous  frame. 

The  wide  extent  of  empire  I  possess, 

And  number  of  my  friends,  am  I  desirous 

To  occupy  these  mansions  in  your  stead. 

That  in  your  stead  I  might  bring  forth  a  race 

Of  slaves,  th*  appendages  of  my  distress  f 

Will  any  one  endure  (if  you  produce 

No  children)  that  my  Sons  should  be  the  Kings 

Of  Phlhia?  —  the  Greeks  love  me  for  the  sake 

Of  Hector,  I  too  was  forsooth  obscure, 

And  not  a  Queen,  in  Troy.    Your  husband's  hate. 

Not  from  my  drugs,  but  from  your  soul,  unsuited 

For  social  converse^  springs :  there  is  a  philtre 

To  gain  his  love.     Not  beauty,  hut  the  virtues, 

O  woman,  to  thepartners  of  our  bed 

Afford  delight.     But  if  it  sting  your  pride 

That  Sparta's  a  vast  city,  while  you  treat 

Scyros  with  3corn,  aijiid&t  the  poor,  display 

Your  riches,  and  of  Menelaus  speal? 

As  greater  than  Achilles;  hence  your  Lord 

Abhors  you.    For  a  vyoman,  tho'  bestow'd 

On  a  vile  mate,  should  learn  to  yield,  nor  strive 


ANDROMACHE,  4Gi 

For  the  pre-eminence.     In  (6)  Thrace  o'erspread 

With  snow,  if  you  were  wedded  to  a  king, 

Who  to  his  bed  takes  many  various  Dames, 

Would  you  have  slain  them  ?  you  would  cast  dis^grace 

Dn  your  whole  sex  by  such  uusated  lust ; 

Base  were  the  deed :  for  tho'  our  souls  are  warm'd 

With  more  intense  desires  than  those  of  men> 

We  modestly  conceal  them.     For  thy  sake 

I,  O  my  dearest  Hector,  lov'd  the  objects 

Of  thy  afiections,  whene'er  Venus'  wiles 

Caus'd  thee  to  err,  and  at  my  breast  full  oft 

Nourished  thy  spurious  (7)  children,  that  in  nought 

Thy  joys  I  might  embitter:  actingthus 

I  won  him  by  my  virtues.     But  you  tremble 

E'en  if  tl^e  drops  of  Heaven's  transparent  dew 

Rest  on  your  Husband.     Strive  not  to  transcend 

Your  Mother  in  a  wild  excess  of  love, 

O  woman.     For  the  children,  if  endu'd 

With  reason,  such  examples  should  avoid 

Of  those  who  bore  them,  a«  corrupt  the  souh 

CHORUS. 
As  far  as  possible,  O  Queen,  comply 
With  my  advice,  and  in  mild  terms  accost  her. 

HERMIONE. 

What  mean'st  thou  by  this  arrogauce  of  speech, 
This  vain  debate,  as  if  thou  still  wert  chaste, 
And  I  had  ctray'd  from  virtue's  path  ? 

(6)  **  On  the  manners  of  tlie  Thracians,  see  Herodotus,  Strabo,  and 
*'  Pomponius  Mela.  These  authora  relate  that  the  inliabitants  of  tluit 
**  country  were  wont  to  marry  from  three  to  twelve,  or  even  more 
<*  wives,  if  they  had  fortunes  sufficient  for  their  sopporjt.  From  the 
"  notes  of  Gaspar  StibUnus.    See  Ino,  v.  18 — 25  **  Barnes. 

(7)  "  Some  represent  tliis  assertion  as  unautliorised  by  history,  and 
'<  contend  that  Hector  is  not  recorded  to  have  had  a  son  by  any  otlier 
''  woman :  but  they  who  hold  this  language  are  inconsiderate,  for  Anaxi- 
*^  crates  in  the  second  of  his  ArgoUcs  mentions  a  spurioi^  son  of  Hector 
^'  being  taken  when  Troy  w^  sack*d  and  perishing,  and  says  that  two 
<'  others  escaped,  one  of  whom,  Scajnandrius,  went  and  settled  at 
«  Tanais."       Scholiast. 


4Cn  '  Andromache: 

ANDROMACHE. 

The  words 
You  have  been  using,  now  at  least  are  void 
Of  modesty^ 

HERMIONE. 

O  woman,  may  this  breast 
Harbour  no  soul  like  thine. 

ANDROMAt^aE. 

Tho'  bashful  youth 
Glow  on  your  cheek,  indecent  is  your  language. 

HERMIONE. 
Thou  by  thy  actions  more  than  by  thy  words 
Hast  prov'd  the  malice  which  to  me  thou  bear'st, 

ANDROMACHE.     , 

Why  will  you  not  conceal  th^  inglorious  pangs 
Of  jealous  love  f 

HERMIONE. 

What  woman  but  resents 
Such  wrongs,  and  deems  them  great  ? 

ANDROMACHE. 

The  use  some  make 
Of  these  misfortunes  adds  to  their  renown  : 
But  shame  waits  those  who  are  devoid  of  wisdom, 

HERMIONE. 

We  dwell  not  in  a  city  where  prevail 
Barbarian  laws. 

ANDROMACHE. 
In  Phrygia  or  in  Greece 
Base  actions  are  with  infamy  attended. 

HERMIONE. 

Tho'  most  expert  in  every  subtle  art. 
Yet  die  thou  must. 

ANDROMACHE. 
Behold  you  Thetis'  image 
Turning  its  eyes  on  you  ? 

HERMIONE. 

She  loathes  thy  country 
Where  her  AcbiUes  treacherously  was  dlain. 


ANDRaMAGHE         463; 

ANDROMACHE. 

Your  Mother  Helen  causM  his  death,  not  I. 

HERMIONE. 

Would'st  thou  retrace  still  farther  the  sad  tale 
Of  our  migfortunes  ? 

Andromache: 

I  restrain  my  tongue. 
HERMIONE, 

Speak  to  me  now  on  that  affair  which  caus'd 
-My  coming  hither. 

.  ANDROMACHE. 
;     All  I  say  is  this; 
You  have  not  so  mucli  wisdom  as  you  need, 

HERMIONE, 

From  this'pure  temple  of  the  sea-born  Goddess 
Wilt  thou  depart  l- 

ANDROMACHE. 

(t^)  Not  while  Hive:  you  first 
Must  slay,  then  drag  me  hence. 

HERMIONE. 

I  am  resolv'd 
How  to  proceed,  and.  wait  my  Lord's  return 
No  longer.  . 

ANDROMACHE. 

Nor  will  I  before  he  come 
Surrender  up  myself. 

HERMIONE. 

With  fianiing  brands 
Hence  will  I  drive  thee,  and  no  dieference  piay  * 
To  thy  entreaties. 


(8)  I  have  endeavoured  to  render  the  meaning,  though  not  the  exact 
words  of  this  line,  conformably  to  the  reading  of  EU  |ouy  ^awf/xu  y,  &cc* 
the  preceding  editions  Instead  nf  (txey  read  fjt»i  here  as  weU  as  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  verse :  but  Pninck  cites  for  his  authority  the  royi^  manu- 
scripts at  Paris,  and  says  that  the  person  whp  collated  them  for  Dr.  Mus< 
grave  had  a  very  defective' eye-sight :  th^  Lascaris  and  Aldus  editions 
both  read  fAv^  but  the  eotntructioii  of -drtanek  seems  less  embarrassed. 


404  ANDROMACHE. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Kindle  them ;  the  Goch 
Will  view  the  deed. 

H£RMIONE» 

The  scourge  too  is  {^repar'd. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Transpierce  this  hosom,  deluge  with  my  gore 
The  altar  of  the  Goddess,  you  by  her 
Shall  be  at  length  overtaken. 

HERMIONE. 

From  thy  cradle, . 
Trained  up  and  hardened  in  Barbarian  pride. 
Canst  thou  endure  to  die  ?  from  this  asylum 
Soon  will  I  rouse  thee  by  thy  own  consent, 
I  with  such  baits  am  furnished,  but  conceal 
My  purpose,  which  th*  event  itself  ere  long 
Will  make  conspicuous.     Keep  a  steady  seat. 
For  tho'  by  molten  lead  thou  wert'  encios'd 
Hence  would  I  rouse  thee,  ere  Achilles'  son. 
Whom  thou  confid'st  in,  to  this  land  return. 

lExii  HERMIONK* 
ANDROMACHE. 
In  him  I  place  my  still  unshaken  trust. 
Yet  is  it  strange  that  the  celestial  Powers, 
To  heal  the  serpent's  venom,  have  assign'd 
'  Expedients,  but  no  remedy  devis'd   . 
Against  an  evil  woman  who  surpasses 
Or  vipers*  stings  or  the  consuming  flame : 
Thus  baleful  is  our  influence  on  mankind. 

CHORUS. 

ODE.  /  . 

I.   1.  'V 

The  winged  son  of  Maia  and  of  Jove 
To  many  sorrowful  events  gave  birth. 
And  scattered  discord  o'er  the  bleeding  earthy 
When  he  thro'  sacred  Ida's  piny  grove 


ANDROMACHE.  4ft5 

Guided  the  car  of  three  immortal  Dames^ 
(The  golden  prize  of  beauty  to  obtaiu^ 
In  hateful  strife  engag'd,  who  urg*d  their  claims ;) 
To  where  in  his  mean  hut  abode  a  lonely  Swain. 

•    I.  2. 
No  sooner  had  they  reach'd  the  destined  bower, 
Than  in  the  limpid  spring  her  snowy  frame        < 
Each  Goddess  lav'd  ;  to  Priam's  Son  then  came 
With  artfnl  speeches  of  such  winning  power 
As  might  beguile  the  rash  and  amorous  boy :     . 
Venus  prevailed ;  her  words,  tho'  sweet  their  sound, 
Prov'd  of  destructive  consequence  to  Troy, 
Whose  stately  bulwarkshence  lie  levell'd  wit^  the  ground* 

II.  1. 

When  new-born  Paris  first  beheld  the  light. 
Would  that  his  Mother,  o'er  her  head,  this  brand 
Ordain'd  by  Heaven  to  fire  his  native  land. 
Had  cast,  before  he  dwelt  on  Ida's  height. 
Unheeded  from  the  bay's  prophetic  shade 
Exclaimed  Cassandra;  ^^  let  the  child  be  slain ; 
*'  Kill  him,  or  Priam's  empire  is  betray'd.** 
Frantic  she  rav'd  and  su'd  to  every  Prince  in  vain. 

II.  2. 
Deaf  was  each  Prince,  or  Ilion  ne'er  had  felt 
The  servile  yoke,  nor  hadst  thou,  hapless  fair. 
Beneath  these  roofs,  encompass'd  by  despair. 
And  subject  to  a  rigid  master,  dwelt. 
O  had  he  died,  the  fated  toil  of  Greece, 
That  stubborn  war  thro'  ten  revolving  years. 
Had  rous'd  no  Heroes  from  the  lap  of  peace. 
Nor  caus'd  theWidow's  shrieks,  the  hoary  Father's  tear*. 

MENELAUS,  MOLOSSUS,  ANDROMACHE, 

CHORUS. 

MENEIAUS. 

Your  Son  I  hither  bring,  whom  from  this  fan€ 

.      VOL.  1.  H  H 


,  \. 


4«6         ANDROMACHE. 

With  secrecy,  you  to  another  house. 
Without  my  Daughter's  knowledge,  had  remov'd. 
You  boasted  that  this  image  of  the  Goddess 
To  you,  and  those  who  hid  him,  would  afford" 
A  sure  asylum :  but  your  deep-laid  craft, 

0  Woman,  cannot  baffle  Menelaus. 

If  you  depart  not  hence,  he  in  your  stead 

Shall  be  the  victim  *;  therefore  well  revolve 

Th'  important  question ;  had  you  rather  die. 

Or,  with  his  streaming  gore,  let  him  atone 

The  foul  offence  'gainst  me  and  'gainst  my  Daughter 

By  you  committed  i 

ANDROMACHE. 
Thou,  O  vain  opinion. 
Hast  with  renown  puff'd  up  full  many  men 
Who  were  of  no  account.     I  deem  those  blest 
On  whom  with  truth  such  honor  is  bestow*d  : 
But  them  who  by  fallacious  means  obtain  it 

1  hold  unworthy  of  possessing  fame. 
When  all  their  seeming  wisdom  but  arises 

From  Fortune^s  gifts.     Thou  with  the  bravest  chiefs 

Of  Greece,  from  Priam  erst  didst  wrest  his  Troy; 

F'eii  thou  who  art  so  mean  as  to  inspire 

Thy  Daughter  with  resentment  'gainst  a  child,, 

And  strive  with  me  a  miserable  captive : 

Unworthy  of  thy  conquest  over  Troy 

Thee  do  I  hold>  and  Troy  yet  more  disgraced 

By  such  a  victor^     Some  indeed  there  are 

To  all  appearance  upright,  who  awhile 

Outwardly  glitter,  though  they  in  their  hearts 

Are  on  a  level  with  the  worthless  bulk 

Of  mortals,  and  superior  but  in  wealth 

Whose  power  is  great.    This  conference  let  us  end, 

0  Menelaus,  be  it  now  suppos'd 

1  by  thy  Daughter  am  already  slain  : 
Twill  be  impossible  for  her  to  scape 
From  t£ie  pollution  ruthless  murder  brings; 


ANDROMACHE.  4fi7 

Thou  too  by  many  tongues  wilt  be  accus'd 
Of  this  vile  deed,  with  her  will  they  confound 
Thee  the  abettor.     But  if  I  preserve 
My  life,  are  ye  resolv'd  to  slay  my  Son  ? 
Howjvillthe  Father  tamely  bear  the  death 
Of  his  lov'd  offspring?  be  was  not  esteem'd 
At  Troy  so  void  of  courage.     He  is  gone 
Whither  his  duty  calls.     Soon  will  the  chief 
Act  worthy  of  the  race  from  which  he  springs, 
The  hoary  Peleus,  and  his  dauntless  Sire 
Achilles,  he  from  these  abodes  will  cast 
Thy  Daughter  forth,  and  when  thou  to  another 
In  marriage  giv'st  her,  what  hast  thou  to  say 
On  her  behalf?  "  that  from  a  worthless  Lord 
*'  Her  wisdom  drove  herr"  This  would  be  a  falshood 
Too  gross.     But  who  would  wed  her  ?  till  grown  grey 
In  widowhood,  shall  she  beneath  thy  roofs 
Fix  her  loath*d  residence?  O  wretched  Man, 
The  rising  conflux  of  unnumbered  woes 
Behold'st  thou  not  ?  hadst  thou  not  rather  find 
Thy  Daughter  wrong'd  by  concubines,  than  suffering 
Th'  indignities  Ijspeak  of?  we  from  trifles 
Such  grievous  mischiefs  ought  not  to  create ; 
Nor  if  we  women  are  a  deadly  bane. 
To  the  degenerate  nature  of  our  sex 
Should  men  conform.     If  I  pernicious  drugs 
Have  to  thy  Daughter  minister'd,  and  been, 
As  she  pretends,  the  cause  of  her  abortion, 
Immediately  will  I  without  reluctance. 
And  without  groveling  at  this  altar's  base. 
To  any  rigid  punishment  submit 
Inflicted  by  thy  Son-in  law,  from  whom 
I  surely  merit  as  se^vere  revenge 
For  haviqg  made  him  childless.    Such  am  I; 
But  in  thy  temper  I  perceive  one  cause  . 
Of  just  alarm,  since  in  that  luckless  strife 

a  H  'Z 


463  ANDROMACHE. 

About  a  woman,  and  a  vile  one  too, 

Thou  the  fam'd  Plirygian  city  didst  destroy. 

CHORUS. 
Too  freely  bast  thou  spoken,  in  a  tone 
Which  ill  becomes  thy  sex,   and  that  high  soul 
The  bounds  of  wisdom  hath  o'erleap'd. 

MENELAUS. 

O  womafi^ 
So  small  an  object,  as  you  rightly  judge, 
Deserves  not  the  attention  of  my  realm, 
Nop  that  of  Greece-     But  learn  this  obvious  truth; 
To  any  man  whatever  he  greatly  needs. 
Is  of  more  worth  by  far  than  taking  Troyi 
My  Daughter  I  assist,  because  t  deem  it 
A  wrong  of  great  importance  should  she  lose 
Her  bridal  rights :  for  every  woman  looks 
On  all  beside  as  secondary  ills  ; 
But  if  she  from  her  Husband's  arms  be  torn^ 
Seems  reft  of  life  itself.    That  Phthia's  Prince 
Direct  my  servants,  and  that  his  obey 
Me  and  my  race,  is  fitting :  for  true  friends 
Have  no  distinct  possessions,  but  hold  all 
In  common.     While  I  wait  for  the  return 
Of  her  long  absent  Lord,  should  I  neglect 
My  Daughter's  interests,  I  were  weak,  not  wise^ 
But  leave  this  shrine  of  Thetis:  for  the  child 
Shall  if  you  bleed  escape  th'  impending  doom  : 
Him,  if  you  die  not,  will  I  slay,  since  fate 
Of  you  or  him  the  forfeit  life  demands. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Ah  me !  a  bitter  and  unwelcome  choice 
Of  life  on  terms  like  these  hast  thou  propos'd  ;. 
Wretch  that  I  am !  for  whether  I  decline 
Or  make  such  option,  I  am  wretched  still. 
O  thou,  who  by  a  trifling  wrong  provok'd. 
Com  mitt's  t  great  crimes,  attend:  for  what  offence 


ANDROMACHE.  4Q9 

Would'st  thou  bereave  me  of  my  life  ?  what  cfty 

Have  I  betrayed  ?  what  child  of  thine  de-itroy^d? 

What  mansion  fir'd?  I  to  my  master's  bed 

By  force  was  dragg'd  :  yet  me  alone,  not  him 

The  author  of  that  crime,  ihou  meanest  to  slay. 

Thou,  the  first  cause  o'er  looking:,  on  th*  effect 

Which  it  produces,  veni'st  ihy  rage.     What  woes 

Encompass  wretched  mei  alas,  my  country! 

How  dreadful  are  the  wrongs  which  I  endure! 

But  wherefore  was  I  doom'd  to  bear  a  child, 

And  to  the  burden  bnder  which  I  groan 

Add  a  new  burden  ?  (9)  what  delight  can  life 

To  me  afford  ?  or  on  what  fortunes  past 

Or  present  should  I  turn  these  eyes  which  saw 

The  corse  of  Hector  by  the  victor's  car 

Whirl'd  round  the  walls,  and  wretched  Troy  a  heap 

C)f  blazing  ruins?  I  meantime  a  slave 

By  my  dishevell'd  hair  was, dragg'd  aboard 

The  Argive  navy ;  when  I  reach'd  the  coast 

Of  Phthia,  and  cohabited  with  those  * 

Who  slew  my  Hector;  (but  why  lavish  plaints 

On  past  calamities,  without  deploring 

Or  taking  a  due  estimate  of  those       ^ 

Which  now  impend?)  I  had  this  only  son 

My  life's  last  comfort  left,  and  they  who  take 

Delight  in  deeds  of  cruelty,  would  slay  hiip^ 

Yet  to  preserve  my  miserable  life 

He  shall  not  perish ;  for  auspicious  hopes. 

Could  he  be  saved,  his  future  days  attend; 

But  if  I  died  not  for  my  Son,  reproach 

Would  be  my  portion.     Lo !  I  leave  the  altar 

And  now  am  in  thy  hands,  stab,  slay  me,  bind^ 

Strain  hard  the  deadly  noose.    My  Son,  thy  Mother, 

To  rescue  thee  from  an  untimely  grave, 

(9)  The  tnmspbsitioii  I  have  htre  adopted,  is  made  use  of  by  Dr. 
Miisgrave  ki  his  edition,  in  conformity  to  the  order  of  citation  observed 
by  the  Scholiast  \  and  seems  to  be  a  censiderable  improvement  to  the 
eonneetion. 


470  ANDROMACHE. 

Descends  the  shades  beneath ;  if  thou  escape 

The  ruthless  grasp  of  fate,  remember  me 

How  miserably  I  suffered  ;  and  with  kisses. 

At  his  return,  when  thou  goest  forth  to  meet 

Thy  Father,  when  a  flood  of  tears  thou  shedd'gt. 

And  cling'st  around  him  with  those  pliant  arms, 

Inform  him  how  I  acted.     All  men  hold 

Their  children  dear  as  life  ;  but  he  who  scorns  them 

Because  he  ne'er  experienced  what  it  is     * 

To  be  a  Father,  tho'  with  fewer  griefs 

Attended,  but  enjoys  imperfect  bliss. 

Rises,  and  advances  from  tlie  altar, 

CHORUS. 

I  with  compassion  to  this  moving  tale 
Have  listened ;  for  distress,  to  all  mankind, 
Tho'  strangefs,  must  seem  piteous :  but  on  theCj  . 
O  Menelaus,  'tis  incumbent  now 
To  reconcile  thy  Daughter,  and  this  Captive, 
That  she  may  from  her  sorrows  be  released. 

MENELAUS. 

Seize  her,  and  bind  her  hands ;  for  she  shall  hear 
No  pleasing  language :  I  propos'd  to  slay 
Your  Son,  that  you  might  leave  that  hallow*d  altar 
Of  Thetis,  and  thus  craftily  induc'd  you 
To  fall  into  my  hands,  and  meet  your  death ; 
Be  well  assur'd,  such  is  the  present  state 
Of  your  affairs :  as  for  that  Boy,  on  him 
My  Daughter  shall  pass  judgement,  or  to  kill. 
Or  spare  him :  but  now  enter  these  abodes. 
That  you  may  learn,  slave  as  you  are,  to  treat 
Those  who  are  free  no  longer  with  disdain. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Thou  bast  o  erreach'd  me  by  thy  treacherous  arts ; 
Alas !  I  am  betray'd. 

MENELAUS. 

Proclaim  these  tidings 
To  all  men ;  for  I  shall  not  contradict  them. 


(V 


ANDaOMACHB.  471 

ANDROMACHEf 

By  those  who  dwell  beside  Eurotas'  stream 
Are  such  base  frauds  call'd  wisdom  ^ 

MENELAUS. 

Both  at  Troy 
And  there^  *tis  ju&t  the  injur'd  should  retaliate. 

ANDROl^CIff:. 

Believ'st  thou  that  the  Gods  are  Gods.uo  longer. 
Nor  wield  the  bolt  of  vengeance  ? 

MENjBLAUS. 

We  must  look 
To  that:  but  you  shall  die* 

ANDROMACHE. 

And  wilt  thou  seize 
This  unfledg'd  bird,  to  slay  him  ? 

MENELAITS. 

No,  I  will  not. 
But  give  him  to  my  Daughter,  who  must  act 
As  she  thinks  fit? 

ANDROMACHE. 

Then  how  alas,  my  San, 
Can  I  sufficiently  bewail  tby  fajte^ 

MENELAUS. 

"  Him,'*  'twas  but  now  with  arrogance  you  said, 
**  Auspicious  hopes  attend." 

AjNTDROH^ACHE. 

Ye  worst  of  foes 
To  all  mankind/ inhabitants  of  Sparta! 
Expert  in  (10)  treacherous  counsels^  still  devising 
New  falshoods,  curst  artificers  of  mischief. 
Your  paths  are  crooked,  yet  tho'  void  of  worth. 
Thro'  Greece  by  circumspection  ye  uphold 
An  undeserved  preeminence.     What  crimes, 

(10)  ^  The  Poet  seems  here  to  have  in  view  ^e  great  craelty  of  the 
^  Spartans  to  the  Phitaeans,  whom  th^ilew  to  a  man^  aiter  they  bud. 
**  vohmtarUy  sorrendered  themselves :  m  regard  to  which  see  Thacidi- 
^  des,  L.  3y  on  the  fif^  year  of  the  Peloponesian  war."     Barnes. 


47a  ANDKOMACHE. 

What  murders,  whal  k  thirst  for  abject  gain 
Characterise  your  realm  !  with  specious  totigue 
Uttering  a  language  foreign  to  your  heait. 
Are  ye  not  ever  caught  i  perdition  seize  you ! 
D^^h  is  less  grievous  than  thou  deem'st,  to  me 
Who  date  my  utter  ruin  from  that  hour 
When  Ilion's  wretche<Kcity  was  involv'd 
In  the  same  fate  with  my  illustrious  lord. 
Whose  spear  oft  drove  thee  trembling  from  tlie  field^ 
Into  thy  ships  :  but  now  against  his  Wife 
A  formidable  warrior  art  thou  come 
To  murder  me :  strike,  for  this  coward  tongue- 
Shall  never  leave  thine  and  thy  daughter's  shame 
Unpublished.     If  in  Sparta  thou  art  great. 
So  was  I  erst  in  Ilion ;  but  exult  not 
In  my  disasters,  for  on  thee  ere  long 
The  same  reverse  of  fortune  may  attend. 

CHORUS. 

O    D    E. 

1. 1-  c^ 

Two  rival  Consorts  ne'er  can  I  approt^,  ^^ 

Or  Sons,  the  source  of  strife,  their  birth  who  owe 
To  different  Mothers ;  hence  confiubial  loVe 
Is  banish'd,  and  the  mansion  teeofis  with  woe.    ' 
One  blooming  nymph  let  cautious  Husbands  wed. 
And  share  with  her  alone  an  unpolluted  bed. 

;  1. 2. 

No  prudent  city,  no  well-govern'd  state. 
More  than  a  single  (11)  Potentate  will  oWn ; 

(11)  The  iio#tb«ni  p^oVu&ces  of  Maisedoilia)  Thl^dflaty,  vtA  Epirii^  are 
distinguished  by  the  geegriphers  from  ^  Greece  propeky  to  eaUed,**  alid 
represented  by  antient  writers  as  less  attached  to  liberty,  opd  inured  to 
Ihre  under  kin^y  govenunent  for  a  long  series  of  ages*.  See  CeUaFtoSy 
.  I^  2.  c.  13.  S.  195.  Strabo  speaks  of  the  Thessaliaps  as  descended,  ae- 
,|eording  to  autient  tradition,  firom  Jason  and  Medea ;  the  Poets  ha've 
aecordingly  represented  fnuid  and  sorcery  as  two  of  their  principal  cha- 
racteristics. According  to  Eostathius  on  Homer  v.  l.p.  331.  ed.  itomas. 


ANDROMACHE.  479 

Th^ir  subjects  dix>op  beneath  the  grievous  weight 

When  two  bear  rule,  and  discord  .shakes  the  throne  ; 
And  if  two  Bards  awake  their  sounding  lyres 

E'en  the  harmonious  Muse  a  cruel  strife  inspires^ 

II.  1. 

To  aid  the  bark,  when  prosperous  gales  arise. 
Two  jarrinp  Pilots  shall  misguide  the  helm: 
Weak  is  a  muliitufW  when  all  are  wise. 
One  simpler  Monarch  could  have  sav'd  the  realm. 
Let  a  sole  Chief  the  house  or  empire  sway, 
And  all  who  hope  for  bliss  their  Lord  s  behests  obey. . 

It  2. 
This  troth  hath  Mc^Vielaus'  Duughter  shewn. 
Furious  she  comes  the  victim  to  destroy ; 

the  term  eKro-aXov  tn^fjuc,  mslde  use  of  by  Euripides  in  his  Tragedy  of 
the  Phceniciafl  tlfgiris,  became  afterwards  proverbial;  and 

"  FuH  m^  f^dse  The^salians  wert  at  hand,*' 
is  the  literal  translatioil  of  a  line  p^^served  by  the  Scholiast  OH  IhRt  p«^ 
sage,  and  inseited  by  pr.  Mns^rave  as  the  194th  «f  his  Fragnienta  III- 
certa.  From  the  Comic  Aristophanes,  the  inveterate  enemy  of  Euripi* 
des,  the  Thessalians  have  by  no  means  experienced  milder  treatment, 
being  branded  in  fais  Plntns  \ritfa  the  charge  of  carrying  oA  th^  most  in- 
famous of  all  merchandizes,  the  slave  trade.  Tbe^e  Phthii^  dames,  vi4*> 
form  the  Chorus,  are  mJeed  here  represented  as  possessing  in  a  high  de- 
gree the  softer  virtues  of  their  sex,  pitying  the  captive  Amlromache,  and 
expressing  Iheif  earnest  v^ishes  to  relieve  her  distress :  but,  when  their 
notions  in  regard  £o  the  most  ^Ugibie  fortn  of  government  are  totfdly  op- 
posite to  (}iose  which  the  Poet  in  the  next  Tragedy  of  the  Suppliants  haS 
put  into  the  mouth  of  Theseus^  it  is  impossible  to  hesitate  for  a  moment 
in  determining  whether  it  was  the  intention  of  Euripides  to  convey  to  his 
readers  what  he'  considered  as  the  gen\)hi6  mfbu^B  of  political  wisdom^ 
under  the  character  of  an  iUustrioos  H^r^,  the  Mler  of  his  native  Athens, 
which  he.  <Mi'  all  ecoasions  extols  to  the^  skies  j  or  tbes6  ThessaliaH  fe- 
males, bom  in  a  land  wliich  he  and  his  contemporary  writers  represent  as 
more  than  half  immersed  in  barbarism,  and  who  must,  in  whatever  point 
of  view  we  take  ^ein,  be  considereM  to  Ihtte  &cqi;(sinUi  witli  th^  science 
of  governing  a  state,  both  'fit>m  the  r«clils%  life  to  which  then*  whole  sex. 
was  in  tiiose  days  ceafined,  and  from  their  bdng  only  the  menial  attend- 
ants of  a  Princess,  but  not  graced  themselves  vrith  that  hereditaiy  rank 
which,  in  their  opening  of  the  next  odfe,  they  consider  as  the  supieme 
bliss  of  mortals. 


474  ANDROMACHE. 

Andy  that  their  blood  may  nuptial  wrongs  atone. 
The  Phrygian  captive,  and  that  hapless  boy. 
With  impious  rage  unjust  would  cause  to  bleed ; 
May  pity,  aweful  Queen,  thy  lifted  arm  impede! 

\ 

But  I  before  these  doors  behold  the  pair 

On  whom  the  fatal  sentence  now  is  past. 

Thou  wretched  Dame,  and  wretched  child  .who  diesl 

Because  thy  Mother  to  a  foreign  bed 

By  force  was  dragg'd,  in  her  imputed  guilt 

Thou  wert  not  an  accomplice,  thou  thy  Lords^ 

Hast  not  offended. 

ANDROMACHE. 

To  the  realms  beneath 
Lo  I  am  hurried,  with  these  bloody  hands 
Fast  bound  in  galling  chains. 

MOL03SUS. 

I  too,  O  Mother, 
Under  thy  wing,  to  those  loath'd  shades  descend 
A  victim.    O  ye  lords  of  Phthia's  land. 
And  thou,  my  Father,  succour  those  thou  loy^st. 

ANDROMACHE. 

Cling  to  thy  Mother's  bosom^  0  my  child. 
Together  let  us  die. 

MOLOSSUS. 

Ah.  me !  how  grievous 
My  sufferings  are  !  too  clearly  I  perceive 
That  I,  and  thou  my  Mother,  both  are  wretched. 

MENELAUS.  ? 

Go  both  together  to  th'  infernal  realm  : 
For  ye  from  hostile  turrets  hither  came. 
Although  the  cause  why  you  and  he  must  bleed 
Is  not  the  same ;  my  sentence  takes  away 
Your  life,  and  my  Hermione's  your  Son's, 
The  highest  folly  were  it  to  permit 
A  foe  to  live  and  vex  us,  whom  with  ease 
We  might  dispatch,  and  from  our  house  remove 
Such  danger. 


y 


ANDROMACHE-  475 

ANDROMACHE. 

O  my  Husband^  would  to  Heavea 
I  had  thy  arm  to  aid  me ;  and  thy  Spear^ 
Thou  Son  of  Priam. 

MOLOSSUS, 

Wretched  me!  what  charm 
Can  I  devise  t'  avert  impending  fate? 

ANDROMACHE. 

My  Son,  implore  the  mercy  of  our  Lord 
Clasping  his  knees. 

MOLOSSUS. 

Dear  Monarch,  spare  my  life, 

ANDROMACHE. 

Tears  from  these  eyes  hurst  forth  like  trickling  drops 
By  the  Sun's  heat  forc'd  from  a  solid  rock^ 
Wretch  that  I  am  !  ^ 

MOLOSSUS. 

What  remedy,  alas! 
For  these  dire  evils  can  my  soul  devise  ? 

MENELAUS.  ,    ' 

Why  dost  thou  idly  grovel  at  my  feet 
With  fruitless  supplications,  while  I  stand 
Firm  as  a  rock,  or  as  th'  unpitying  wave  ? 
Such  conduct  serves  my  interests :  no  affection 
To  thee  I  bear,  because  ray  morn  of  life 
Was  wasted  in  the  conflict,  ere  I  took 
Troy  and  thy  Mother,  whose  society 
«  Thou  in  the  realms  of  Pluto  shalt  enjoy. 

PELEUS,  MENELAUS,  ANDROMACHE, 
MOLOSSUS,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

Peleus,  I  see,  draws  near,  his  aged  feet 
With  eager  haste  advancing. 

PELEUS.  ;^\ 

.  You,  and  him 


47^        ANDROMACHE. 

Who  stands  presiding  o'er  a  murderous  deed. 
What  means  this  uproar  that  disturbs  the  house, 
I  question^  and  what  practices  are  these 
Ye  carry  on  unauthoriz'd  by  law? 
O  Menelaus,  stay  thy  furious  hand^ 
And  let  not  execution  thus  outstrip 
Ail  righteous  judgement.    O  njy  friends,  lead  on  ; 
For  such  a  dread  emergency  appears 
T*  admit  of  no  delay.     Could  1  regain 
That  youthful  vigour  which  I  erst  enjoy'd 
As  prosperous  breezes  aid  the  floating  sails, 
This  captive  would  I  favour.     Say,  what  right. 
Have  they  to  bind  your  hands,  and  drag  along 
You  and  your  Son  ?  for  like  the  bleating  Mother, 
Led  forth  to  slaughter  with  her  lamb,  you  perish. 
While  I  and  your  unweeting  Lord  are  absent. 

ANDROMACHE. 
They,  as  thou  see'st,  O  venerable  Man, 
Me  and  my  Son  thus  bear  to  instant  death. 
What  shall  I  say  to  thee,  whom  I  with  speed 
Ijot  by  one  single  messenger  hut  thousands 
Have  sont  for?  sure  thou,  of  the  fatal  strife 
Id  these  divided  mansions,  with  his  Daughter, 
To  which  I  owe  my  ruin,  must  have  heard: 
And  from  the  violated  shrine  of  Thetis, 
Who  bore  to  thee  a  noble  Son,  the  Goddess 
Whom  thou  rever'st,  e'en  now  with  brutal  force 
Me  have  they  torn,  norjudgM  toy  cause,  nor  wait 
For  absent  Neoptolemus,  but,  knowing 
That  t  and  that  this  Child  who  hath  committed 
No  fault,  are  left  alone  and  unprotected. 
Would  slay  us  both.     But,  O  thou  aged  man. 
Thus  prostrate  on  my  knees,  to  thee  1  sue. 
And,  though  this  hand  must  not  presume  to  touch 
Thy  honoui  'd  beard,  conjure  thee  by  the  Gods, 
Rescue  us,  or  to  thy  eternal  shame 
Both  he  and  I  must  miserably  bleed. 


viij 


ANDROMACHE.  477 

PELEUS. 

My  orders  are  that  you  those  galling  chains 
Unbind  and  loose  her  hands^  else  will  I  make 
The  disobedier>t  weep. 

MENELAUS. 

But  I,  your  equal. 
Who  have  much  more  authority  o'er  her. 
Forbid  them. 

PELEUS. 

Com'st.thou  hither  to  direct 
My  houshold  ?  is  it  not  enough  for  thee 
To  rule  thy  Spartans  ? 

MENELAUS. 

Her  I  took  at  Troy. 

PfJLEUS. 
She,  to  reward  his  valour,  was  bestow'd 
Upon  my  grandson. 

MENELAUS. 

Doth  not  all  he  owns, 
To  me,  and  what  is  mine,  to  him  belong  ? 

PELEUS. 

For  honest  purposes,  but  not  for  crimes 
And  murderous  violence. 

MENELAUS, 

You  ne'er  shall  take  her 

Out  of  my  hands. 

PELEUS. 
Thy  head  I  with  this  sceptre 

Will  smite. 

MENELAUS. 

Draw  near;  if  you  presume  to  touch  me, 

Soon  shall  you  rue  such  outrage. 

PELEUS. 

0  thou  villain, 

Sprung  from  a  race  of  impious  Sires,  what  right 

To  be  accounted  an  illustrious  man, 

And  numbered  with  the  truly  brave,  hast  thou,  j 


478  ANDROMACHE. 

Who  by  a  Phrygian  wanderer  wcrt  depri/d 

Of  thy  fair  Consort^  after' thou  hadst  left 

Thy  house  unbarr'd  and  destitute  of  guards. 

As  if  thou  in  tiiy  mansions  hadst  possess'd 

A  virtuous  Dame,  though  she  of  all  her  seic 

Was  the  most  dissolute?  nor  if  she  would 

Can  any  Spartan  nymph  be  chaste  ?  for  wandering 

From  tlieir  own  homes,  distinguished  by  bare  legs. 

And  zoneless  vest,  they  with  young  men  contend 

In  swiftness  and  in  wrestling;  I  such  customs. 

Hold  in  abhorrence.     Is  there  any  room 

For  wonder  if  the  women  prove  unchaste 

Whom  thus  you  educate?   thy  Helen  ought 

To  have  proposed  th  se  questions,  ere  she  left 

Her  native  re^lm,  regardless'of  thy  love. 

And  by  that  youthful  paramour  seduc'd,  * 

Wantonly  fled  into  a  foreign  land. 

Yet  for  her  sake  didst  thou  that  numerous  host 

Of  Greeks  collect,  and  lead  them  to  assail 

The  Phrygian  ramparts.    Thou  that  beauteous  Dame 

Should'st  rather  have  despis'd,  nor  in  her  cause 

Wielded  the  javelin,  when  thou  found'st  her  worthless. 

But  suifer'd  her  in  llion  to  remain. 

And  sent  rich  gifts  to  Paris  on  these  terms. 

That  to  thy  house  she  never  should  return. 

But  thou,  instead  of  suflering  these  just  motives 

To  make  their  due  impression  on  thy  soul, 

Full  many  valiant  warriors  hast  destroyed. 

Made  th'  aged  Matron  childless,  and  depiiv'd 

Of  bis  illustrious  sons  the  hoary  Siie. 

Numbei'd  with  those  who  owe  to  thee  thy  ruin 

Am  wretched  I :  for  like  some  evil  Genius 

In  thee  do  these  indignant  eyes  behold 

The  murderer  of  Achilles:  thou  alone, 

Save  by  the  missile  ^laft,  un wounded  cam'^t 

From  liion's  hostile  shores;   in  burnish 'd  chests 

Didst  thou  bear  thither  the  same  glittering  arms 


ANDROMACHE. 


479 


Which  thou  bear'st  back  again.     Before  he  wedded, 

I  warn'd  my  grandson  to  form  no  connection 

With  thee,  nor  into  these  abodes  admit 

The  brood  of  that  Adultress  ;  for  the  Daughters 

Their  mother  emulate  in  deeds  of  shame. 

Look  well  to  this,  ye  Suitors,  and  select 

The  Pamsel  with  maternal  worth  endu'd. 

Then  with  what  scorn  did'st  thou  thy  Brother  treat 

Commanding  him  'gainst  reason  to  transgress. 

And  sacrifice  his  Daughter.     Thou  such  fears, 

Lest  thou  that  execrable  Wife  should*st  lose. 

Didst  entertain.     When  thou  hadst  taken  Troy, 

This  too  I  urge  against  thee,  though  thou  hadst 

Thy  Consort  in  thy  power,   thou  didst  not  slay  her. 

But  when  her  throbbing  bosom  thou  beheld'st(l^). 

Didst  cast  away  thy  sword,  receive  her  kisses. 

And  sooth  the  fears  of  her  who  had  betray'd  thee. 

O  worthless  miscreant,  whom  the  Cyprian  Queen 

Hath  thus  debas'd  !   thou  after  this  intrud'st 

Into  my  Grandson's  palace,  in  his  absence 

Committ'st  these  outrages,  and  basely  slay'st 

A  miserable  Woman,  and  her  Child, 

Thee  and  thy  Daughter  wlio  shall  cause  to  weep 

Though  trebly  illegitimate  his  birth. 

Oft*  the  parch'd  heath,  when  duly  till'd,  exceeds 

The  richest  soil,  and  greater  instances 

Of  virtue  are  in  many  <x  bastard  found 

Than  in  the  lawfully  begotten  race. 

But  take  thy  Daughter  hence.     Far  better  is  it 

To  form  affinity  and  strictest  friendship 

With  a  poor  man  of  worth,  than  him  who  joins 

Iniquity  with  wealth :  but  as  for  tliee. 

Thou  art  a  thing  of  nought. 


(12)  Oy'  wv  MmXcios  TWf  ILkna;  Ta  (Mt>a  Wiu 
TvfJi,vag  Ilapivtia;   t^^tt)^  ouu    to  ^t^, 

.  Aristophanis  I.ysistrate,  v,  155* 


480  ANDROMACHE. 

CHORUS. 

Among  raankicid. 
Oft'  from  a  small  beginning  doth  the  tongue 
Great  strife  occasion :  but  the  wise  beware 
Of  entering  on  a  contest  with  their  friend. 

M£N£LAUS. 

Why  do  we  speak  in  such  exahed  terms 
Of  aged  men,  as  if  thry  were  endued 
With  wisdom^  tho'  in  former  days  supposed 
By  the  whole  Grecian  race  to  judge  aright? 
When  you,  O  Peleus,  who  derive  your  birth 
From  an  illustrious  She,  and  with  my  bouse 
So  nearly  are  connected,  hold  a  language 
Disgraceful  to  yourself^  and  slander  me. 
For  a  Barbarian  Dame^  whom  from  this  land 
You  ought  to  banish  far  beyond  the  Nilfr> 
Beyond  the  Phasis,  and  applaud  my  vengeance  ; 
Because  she  comes  from  Asiatic  shores, 
Where  many  valiant  Grecian  chiefs  lie  slain. 
And  hath  in  part  been  guilty  of  the  blood 
Of  your  fam'd  Son  ;  for  Paris,  by  whose  shafts 
Transpierc'd,  Achilles  perish'd,  was  the  Brother, 
And  she  the  Wife  of  Hector :  yet  you  enter 
The  same  abode  with  her,  the  genial  board 
With  her  partake,  allow  her  to  bring  forth 
Under  your  roofs  an  execrable  brood. 
These  mischiefs  both  to  you  and  me,  old  man. 
Foreseeing,  have  I  snatch'd  her  from  your  hands 
With  a  design  to  kill  her.     But,  O  say, 
(For  there  is  nought  of  meanness  in  our  holding 
This  conference),  if  my  Daughter  bear  no  child. 
And  she  have  Sons,  will  you  appoint  them  Lords 
Of  this  your  Phthian  land?  shall  they"  who  spring 
From  a  Barbarian  race,  o'er  Greeks  bear  rule  ? 
Am  I,  because  I  hate  injustice,  void 
Of  understanding,  and  are  you  discreet  ? 
Reflect  on  this;  bad  you  bestow'd  your  Daughter 


ANDROMACHE.  4Sl 

On  any  citizen,  were  she  thus  treated. 

Would  you  sit  down  and  bear  her  wrongs  in  silence  ? 

I  deem  you  would  not.  Why  then  with  such  harshness 

Speak  you  in  favour  of  a  foreign  Dame 

Against  your  nearest  friends  ?  as  great  a  right 

To  vengeance  as  her  Husband,   hath  the  Wife 

Whom  her  Lord  injures  :  for  while  he  whose  doors 

An  unchaste  Consort  enters,  in  his  hands 

Hath  power  to  right  himself,  a  woman^s  strength 

Lies  only  in  her  parents  and  her  friendst. 

My  Daughter,  therefore,  am  I  bound  to  aid^ 

Y  ou  shew  the  marks  of  age :  for  while  yoii  talk 

Of  that  fam'd  war  I  wag'd,  you  more  befriend  itte 

Than  if  you  had  been  silent.     Deep  in  woe 

Was  Helen  plunged,  not  by  her  own  consent 

But  by  the  Gods :  and  this  event  hath  prov'd 

To  Greece  most  advantageous,  for  its  Sons, 

Who  knew  not  how  till  then  to  wield  the  spear, 

Grew  valiant.     From  Experience,  best  of  tutors. 

Men  gather  all  the  knowledge  they  possess. 

But  when  I  saw  my  Consort,  in  forbearing 

To  take  away  her  life,  I  acted  wisely : 

And  would  that  you  had  done  like  me,  nw  slain      ' 

Your  Brother  (IS)  Phocus ;  this  to  you  I  speak 

Through  mere  benevolence,  and  not  in  wrath; 

But  if  resentment  o'er  your ^oul  usurp 

An  empire,  such  intemperance  of  the  tongue 

Will  be  in  you  in6re  shameful.  While  my  wishes 

I  by  a  prudent  forethought  shall  attain. 

(13)  ^Telamon  aod  P^eiis  hawqg  niYi^d,  iMc  ||teM)ier  td  «Hlie 
"  games,  wten  it  Q^une  to  Peleus*  porn  to  tiupw  t^e  q^it,  he  pjwr- 
<<  posety  struck  Phocus  with  it,  aud  kiUed  hm*  Hq  f$  Mud  fo  1^^ 
<<  committed  this  cit%e  at  thier  soficitatioii  off  h^  Mother,  forlietll^' 
^  Tdamon  sprung  from  a  Daughter  of  Sdron,  and  Phoqafl  from  % 
<<  sister  •fTheti^  if  the  Gteek  ifnters  are  to  bd  4irMM.  Ai  »oon 
^. as  the . murder ; was  peh-pstnited,  ftui  BtoHien  botb  fled^  and  had 
**  stntecee  ef •  bomstwient  |^a«*d^  tiMa  bjr  their  Mitr  M}umJ^ 

VOL*    I.  II 


4M         ANDROMACHE. 

CHORUS. 

Now  both  desist  (for  this  were  better  far) 
From  such  unprofitable  strife  of  words. 
Or  ye  will  both  offend. 

PELEU8. 

Ah  me !  througjU  Greece 
What  mischievous  (14)  opinions  have  prevaii'd  ! 
When  with  the  spoils  of  vanquished  foes,  the  host 
A  trophy  rear,  they  think  not  how  'twas  gain'd 
By  those  brave  Soldiers  who  endure  the  toil 
Of  battle,  while  their  General  bears  away 
All  the  renown :  though  he  was  only  one 
Who  stood  midst  thousands  brandishing  his  spear. 
Nor  any  single  combatant  surpass'd. 
He  gains  a  larger  portion  of  applause.     . 
The  venerable  rulers  of  a  city, 
Plac'd  ill  exalted  stations,  yet  devoid 
Of  any  real  merit,  overlook 
The  populace,  though  many  in  the  crowd 
Of  their  inferiors  aie  more  wise  than  they. 
If  haply  courage  and  an  honest  zeal 
Unite  to  place  them  in  the  public  view. 
Thou  and  thy  Brother  thus  are  swollen  with  pride. 
From  having  led  those  troops  to  conquer  Troy, 
And  triumph  in  the  sufferings  of  your  friends^ 
But  henceforth  will  I  teach  thee  not  to  look 
On  Paris,  Ida's  shepherd,  as  a  foe, 
More  terrible  than  Peleus.    If  with  speed 
Thou  quit  not  these  ahodes,  and  take  away 
Thy  childless  Daughter,  my  indignant  Grandson, 
By  her  distevell'd  hair,  around  the  palace 
;WiU  drag  this  barren  Dame,  who  stung  with  envy, 
f  !Cannot  endure  the  fruitful  Mother'sy^oys, 

(14)  ^'  Qytm  is  said  to  have  repeated  theser  verses  at  a  iMm^et  of 
f  ^.Alexadder  the  Great,  in  order  to  dimkdsfahis  exploits,  by  wiiichfae 
^^  pmvoked  Alexander  to  kill  him,  ss  Quintus  Cortius  informs  w  in  his 
'*  .eigbtb  book,  and  Plutarch  in  his  Life  of  Alexander."    Barnes. 


ANDROMACHE.  483 

"But,  if  she  prove  so  luckless  as  to  bear 

Ko  issue^  ought  she  therefore  to  deprive  us 

Of  our  posterity  ?   begone,  ye  slaves^ 

That  I  may  see  who  dares  obstruct  my  loosing 

Her  hands***-  Rise  up  :  tho*  trembling  with  old  age, 

Your  chains  can  I  unbind.    O  worthless  man, 

Hast  thou  thus  gall'd  her  hands  i  didst  thou  suppose 

Thou  held'st  a  bull  or  lion  in  the  snare  ? 

Or  didst  thou,  shudder  lest  she  should  snatch  up 

A  sword,  and  wreak  just  vengeance  on  thy  head? 

Come  hither  to  these  sheltering  £{rms,  my  child, 

Unbind  thy  Mother's  chains;  in  Phthia,  thee 

1*11  educate,  to  them  a  bitter  foe. 

Should  Sparta's  sons  by  the  protended  spear 

Obtain  no  fame,  nor  in  th*  embattled  field 

Their  prowess  signalize,  be  well  assur'd 

Ye  have  no  other  merit. 

CHORUS. 

Old  men  talk 
With  freedom,  and  their  vehemence  of  soul 
Is  hard  to  be  restrained. 

M£NEIAUS« 

Extremely  prone 
Are  you  to  slander;  much  against  my  will 
I  came  to  Phthia,  and  am  here  resolv'd       .  a:'- 

That  I  will  neither  do  nor  suffer  aught 
Disgraceful :  but  to  my  own  home  with  speed 
Am  I  returning,  and  have  little  time 
In  vain, debates  to  lavish:  for  a  (15).city 

•      *  >    ■    ■ 

(15)  The  ibllowiiif;  is  .t^e  paasa|Q  in  Petitus*  mi^eeUaiieoas  obsem^ 
tipnsy  L.  3.  c.  16.  referred .  to  by  Barnes ;  **  I  make  no  doubt  but  theie 
*'  verses  of  the  Poet  are  to  be  referred  to  tbe  faistoiy  of  the  thne,  aiJd 
'<  mark  out  the  year  ¥rben  this  play  vvas  exhibited,  which  appftais  to 
*^  have  been  the  second  of  the  90th  Olympiad..  Archias  being  prsetor 
^  of  Athens,  when  war  broke  out  between  the  Spartans  and  Argives, 
«  as  historians  relate,  and  was  preceded  by  a  conf^eni^y  of  the  Afiie- 
<<  nians,  Argives,  Eleans,  and  Matineans,  against  the  LadedfemoniaD^ 
"  who  were  this  year  at  war  with  a:neighbouring  city,  to  ^utj'^Argos/ 

■•       I-  I   3  • 


484  ANDROMACHE. 

Not  far  from  Sparta's  gates  and  erst  ti  friend 

Is  waging  war  against  us  :  I  would  lead 

Myiiardy  squadrons  forth  t'  assail  the  foe^ 

And  utterly  subdue  them.    To  my  wish 

Soon  as  thi«  great  affair  I  shall  have  settled^ 

Hither  will  1  rttufn,  and  face  to  face, 

When  I  my  reasons  to  my  Son-in-law 

Have  in  the  clearest  terms  proposed,  will  hear 

What  he  can  urge;  and  if  he  punish  her, 

And  for  the  ftiture  courteously  to  me 

Demean  himself,  from  me  he  in  return 

Shall  meet  with  courtesy ;  but  if  he  rage 

He  of  my  rage  the  dire  effects  shall  feel: 

For  still  such  treatment  as  his  deeds  deserve 

Shall  he  experience.     But  I  am  not  hurt 

By  these  injurious  words  of  yours;  for  like 

Some  disembodied  gliost,  you  have  a  voice, 

Altho'  you  are  not  able  to  do  aught 

But  merely  speak«  [ExtV  menelaus# 

PELEUS. 

Lead  on,  my  Boy;  here  take- 
Thy  station  under  these  protecting  arms ; 
And  thou  too,  O  thou  miserable  Dame, 
Driven  hither  l)y  the  furious  storm  ',  at  lengtb 
Into  a  quiet  haven  areye  come. 

ANDROMACBE. 

On  tliee  and  ihy  descendants  may  the  Godfl 
Shower  every  blessing,  venerable  man. 
For  having  sav'd  this  child,  and  wretched  me; 
Yet  O  beware,  lest  in  some  lonely  spot 
They  suddenly  assail  us,  and  by  force 
jPrag  pie  away,  perceiving  thou  art  old. 
That  1  am  a  weak  woman,  and  my  son 
Is  but  an  infant:  all  precautions  use. 
Else  we,  who  have  escap'd  them,  may  agaia 
Be  caught* 

PELEUS. 

Forbear  to  utter,  in  such  language 


ANDROMACHE.         4M 

As  this,  the  dictates  of  a  woman's  fear. 
Advance,  who  dares  to  touch  you  ?  he  shall  weep* 
For  with  the  blessing  of  th'  immortal  Gods, 
And  by  unnumber'd  troops  of  valiant  horse. 
And  infantry  supported,  I  bear  rule 
Over  the  Phthian  land.     I  am  robust, 
Nor,  as  you  deem,  impeir'd  by  palsied  age. 
Were  I,  oppos'd  in  battle,  but  to  look 
On  such  a  man  as  this,  old  as  I  am. 
An  easy  conquest  isoon  should  I  obtain. 
Superior  is  the  veteran,  if  with  courage 
Inspir'd,  to  many  youths :  for  what  avails 
A  vigorous  body  with  a  coward's  heart? 

lExeUHi  PELBUg,  AITDROMACHE,  flmf^OLOSSUS. 

CHORUS. 

ODE.* 

I. 

Sly  wish  were  this ;  or  never  to  beljorn,  |^^' 

Or  to  descend  from  generous  Sires,  and  share 

The  blessings  which  attend  a  wealthy  heir. 
If  heaviest  woes  assail,  ne'er  left  forlorn 
Without  a  friend  are  they  of  nobler  race. 
Hereditary  trophies  deck  their  head : 
The  records  of  the  brave  with  joy  we  trace, 
No  distant  age  their  memory  can  efface. 
For  virtue's  torch  unquench'dpoursradiance  o'erthedead 

IL 
Better  is  conquest,  when  we  gain  our  right 

By  no  reproachful  means,  no  deeds  pf  shame. 

Than  if  to  envy  we  expose  our  fame. 

And  trample  on  the  laws  with  impious  might. 

Such  lauiels  which  at  first  too  sweetly  bloom. 
Ere  long  are  wither'd  by  the  frost  of  time. 

And  scorn  pursues  their  wearers  to  the  tomb. 

I  in  my  houshold  or  the  state  presume 
To  seek  that  power  alone  which  rules  without  ft  crime. 


486  ANDROMACHE, 

III. 
O  Veteran,  sprung  from  -Slacus,  thy  spear, 
Chiird  the  Lapithse  with  fear. 
And  from  their  hills  the  Centaurs  drove. 

When  Glory  calFd,  and  prosperous  gales 
Swell'd  the  Argo's  daring  sails. 
Intrepid  didst  thou  pass  that  strait 
Where  ruin  oft  the  Clashing  bark  attends, 

And  ocean's  foam  descends 
From  the  Symplegades'  obstructing  height. 
Next  didst  thou  land  on  perjur'd  IlionV  shore. 
With  Hercules  illustrious  Son  of  Jove, 

Then  first  its  bulwarks  streamed  with  gore :  : 

"    Till  crown'd  with  fame  a  partner  of  his  toil, 
Europe  again  thou  sought'st  and  Phthia's  frozen  soil. 

THE  NURSt  OF  HERMIONE,  CHORUS. 

NURSE. 

How  doth  a  rapid  series  of  events 
The  most  disastrous,  O  my  dearest  friends. 
This  day  invade  us  !  for  within  these  doors 
Hermione  my  Mistress,  by  her  Sire 
Forsaken,  and  grown  conscious  of  the  guilt 
She  hath  incurred,  by  that  attempt  to  murder 
Andromache  and  her  unhappy  Son, 
Resolves  to  die,  because  she  dreads,  lest  fir'd 
With  indignation  at  her  guilt,  her  Lord 
Should  cast  her  forth  with  scorn,  or  take  away 
Her  life,  because  she  purpos'd  to  have  slain 
The  innocent.    The  servants  who  attend 
Can  hardly  by  their  vigilance  prevent  her 
From  fixing  round  her  heck  the  deadly  noose. 
Or  snutch  the  dagger  from  her  hand,  so  great 
Is  her  aflBiction,  and  she  now  confesses 
That  she  has  done  amiss.     My  strength's  exhausted 
In  striving  to  withhold  my  roynl  Mistress 
From  perishing  by  an  ignoble  death. 


■4    c 


ANDROMACHE.  487 

But* enter  ye  these  mansipns/and  attempt 
To  save  her  life,  for  strangers  can  persuade 
Far  better  than  old  friends. 

CHORUS; 

We  hear  the  voice 
Of  her  attendants  from  within  confirm 
Th*  intelligence  ihou  hither  cam*st  to  bring: 
That  hapless  w6man  seems  just  on  the  point 
Of  shewing  witj?  what  rage  she  by  her  guilt 
£s  hurried  on  :  for  lo  slie  rushes  forth 
From  yon  abodes^  already  hath  she  scap'd 
Her  servants'  hands,  and  is  resoWd  to  die. 

HERi«IONE,  NURSE,  CHORUS. 

HERMIONE. 

Ah  iiae !  these  ringlets  how  Will  I  tear  off, 
'  How  rend  my  cheeks i 

NURSE. 

What  meanest  thou,  O  my  Daughter? 
Wilt  thou  thus  injure  tha{  fair  frame? 

HERMIONfi. 

Away, 
O  thou  slight  veil,  I  pluck  thee  from  my  head. 
And  toss  thy  scattered  fragments  in  the  air. 

NURSE. 

Cover  thy  bosom  with  the  decent  robe. 

HERMIONE. 
Why  with  a  robe  my  bosom  should  I  hide  ? 
The  crimes  I  have  committed  'gainst  my  Lord 
Are  clear,  well-known,  and  cannot  be  conceal'd* 

NURSE. 

Griev'st  thou  because  thou  h^st  form'd  schemes  to  slay 
Thy  rival  ? 

HERMIONE. 

I  with  many  groans  bewail 
Those  hostile  darings,  execrable  wretch. 
Wretch  that  I  am^  an  object  of  just  hat« 
To  all  mankind. 


jr.  . 


496  ANDROMACHE. 


Will  pardon. 


NUB3E. 

Thy  Husband  such  oflFence 


HEIRMIONE. 

From  my  hand  why  didst  thou  snatch 
The  sword  f  restore,  restore  it,  O  my  friends^ 
That  I  this  bosom  may  transpierce.    Why  force  me 
To  quit  yon  pendent  noose  i 

NURSE, 

In  thy  distraction 
Shall  I  forsake  and  leave  thee  thus  to  die  i 

HERMIONE. 

Where  shall  I  find  (inform  me,  O  ye  Fates), 
The  blazing  pyre,  ascend  the  craggy  roA^    . 
Plunge  in  the  billows,  or  amidst  the  woods 
On  a  steep  mountain  waste  the  life  I  loathe, 
That  after  death  the  Gods  beneath  may  take  me 
To  their  protection  ? 

CHORUS, 

Why  would'st  thou  make  efforts 
So  violent  7  some  mischiefs  sent  by  Heaven 
Sooner  or  later  visit  all  mankind, 

HERMIONE. 

Me  like  a  stranded  bark>  thou,  O  my  SirCj 
Hast  left  forsaken  and  without  an  oar. 
To  thee  I  owe  my  ruin.    I  no  longer       ,  ,  • 
In  these  my  bridal  mansions  can  reside. 
To  the  propitious  statues  of  what  God 
With  suppliant  haste  shall  I  repair,  or  faU 
At  a  slave's  knees,  myself  an  abject  sl^ve  i 
I  from  th^  land  of  Phthia,  like  a  bird 
Upborne  on  azure  wings,  would  speed  my  flighty 
Or  imitate  that  ( l6)  ship  whose  dashing  oars  I 

Twixt  the  Cyanean  straits  first  urgM  their  way^ 

NURSE, 

As  little,  O  my  Daughter,  can  I  praise 

(16)  The  ArgQ. 


^ 


ANDROMACHE.  490 

That  vehemence  which  caas^d  thee  to  transgress 

Against  the  Trojan  Dame^  as  these  thy  fears 

Which  are  immoderate.     For  such  slight  offence.  ; 

Thy  Lord^  misled  by  the  pernicious  tongue 

Of  a  Barbarian  woman^  fix>m  his  couch 

Will  not  expell  thee ;  for  thou  art  not  his 

By  right  of  conquest,  borne  from  vanquish'd  Troy; 

But  thee,  the  Daughter  of  a  mighty  King, 

He  with  abundant  dower,  and  from  a  city 

Most  flourishing,  received  :  nor  will  thy  Sire, 

His  child  forsaking,  as  thou  dread'st,' permit  thee 

To  be  cast  forth :  but  enter  these  abodes. 

Nor  shew  thyself  without,  lest  tome  affront 

Thou  shpuld'st  receive  if  haply  thou  art  seen 

Before  these  doors.  [£j:iV'nuese. 

CHORUS. 

Behold  a  man,  whose  dress 
Is  of  such  different  fashion  that  it  speaks 
The  foreigner,  comes  swiftly  from  the  gate, 

ORESTES,  HERMIONE,  CHORUS. 

ORESTES, 

Is  this  th'  abode  of  great  Achilles'  son. 
The  regal  mapsion,  O  ye  foreign  Dames  ? 

CHORUS. 

It  is  as  thou  hast  said.     But  who  art  tl^ou 
That  ask'st  this  question  ?  * 

ORESTES. 

Agamemnon's  Son,  '^  ^ 

And  Clytemnestra's :  but*my  fame's  Orestes: 
1  to  Dodona^  th'  oracle  of  Jove, 
Am  on  my  road  ;  but  since  I  noW  have  reach'd 
The  land  of  Phthia,  first  woukj  I  enquire 
How  fares  Hermione,  the  Spartan  Dame,    ' 
My  kinswoman ;  doth  she  yet  live  and  -prosper  ? 
For  though  from  me  far  distant  be  the  land 
In  which  she  now  resides,  she  still  is  d^ar. 


41^  ANDROMACHE. 

m 

t 

HERMIONE. 

O  son  of  Agamemnon^  who  thus  make 
Your  seasonable  appearance^  like  the  haven 
To  mariners  amidst  a  furious  storm. 
Take  pity>  I  implore  you  by  those  knees. 
On  me  a  wretch  whose  inauspicious  fortunes 
You  witness.     Hence  around  your  knees  I  fling 
These  arms,  which  ought  to  prove  of  equal  foroe 
With  hallowed  branches  by  the  suppliant  borne* 

ORESTES. 

What's  this  f  am  I  deceived  ?  or  do  my  eyes 
Indeed  behold  the  Queen  of  these  abodes, 
And  Menelaus' Daughter  ? 

HERMIONE. 

Th'  only  child 
Whom  to  the  Spartan  Monarch  Helen  bore. 
Mistake  me  not. 

ORESTES. 

O  Phoebus,  healing  power. 
Protect  us.     But  what  dire  mischance  hath  happen'd  f 
Or  from  the  Gods,  or  human  foes,  proceed 
The  evils  thou  endur'st  ? 

HERMIONE. 

Some  from  myself. 
But  others  from  the  Husband  whom  I  wedded ; 
The  rest  from  one  of  the  immortal  Gods. 
I  utterly  am  ruin'd. 

ORESTES. 

What  afflictions 
Can  any  woman  who's  yet  childless  feel 
But  those  which  from  her  nuptial  union  spring? 

HERMIONE.  * 

Hence  these  distempers  of  the  soul  arise. 
And  well  do  you  anticipate  my  words. 

ORESTES. 

Enamour'd  with  another,  is  thy  Lord  • 

False  to  thy  bed? 


I 


ANDROMACHE.  49i 

HERMIONE. 

He  loves  a  captive  Dame^ 
The  wife  of  Hector. 

ORESTES. 

Thi»  of  which  thou  speak*st 
Is  a  great  evil>  when  one  man  possesses 
Two  wives, 

HERMIONE. 

'Twas  thus,  till  I  aveng'd  the  wrong. 

ORESTES. 

'  Didst  thou  with  arts  familiar  to  thy  sex 
Plot  'gainst  thy  rival's  life  ? 

HERMIONE. 

I  would  have  kill'd 
Her  and  her  spurious  Son. 

OREiSTES. 

Hast  thou  dispatch'd  them? 
Or  were  they  skreenM  from  their  impending  fate  ? 

HERMIONE. 
Old  Peleus  to  these  worthless  objects  shew'd 
Too  great  a  reverence. 

ORESTES. 

Was  there  any  friend 
Ready  to  aid  thee  in  the  purposed  slaughter  ? 

HERMIONE. 

My  Sire,  who  for  this  cause  from  Sparta  came. 

ORESTES. 

Yet  by  that  aged  man  was  he  subdu'd  ? 

HERMIONE. 

Abashed  he  fled,  and  left  me  here  alone. 

ORESTES. 

I  understand  thee  well :  thy  Husband's  wrath 
Thoa  fear'st,  for  what  thou'st  done. 

HERMIONE. 

The  fact  you  know : 
Hence  justly  will  he  take  away  my  life. 
What  can  be  said  ?  yet  by  immortal  Jove, 
Our  Grandsire,  I  conjure  you,  send  me  far 


\\ 


\  ^ 


492  ANDROMACHE. 

From  these  domains,  or  to  my  Father's  house* 
Had  but  these  walls  a  voice,  they  would  proclaim 
The  sentence  of  my  exile,  for  the  land 
Of  Phthia  hates  me.     If  my  Lord  return 
From  Phcebus'  oracle,  for  the  misdeeds 
I  have  committed,  he  will  strike  me  dead,  . 
Or  force  me  to  become  that  Harlot's  slave 
Whom  erst  I  rul'd, 

ORESTES. 

By  some  will  it  be  ask'd 
Whence  then  into  such  errors  didst  thou  fall  I 

HERMIONE. 

My  ruin  I  derive  from  the  admission 
Of  these  vile  women,  who  inflam'd  my  pride 
By  uttering  these  rash  words;  *'  Wilt  thou  endure 
*^  Beneath  thy  roof  that  odious  slave  who  shares 
*'  Thy  bridal  couch  f  by  Juno,  aweful  Queen, 
''  I  would  not  suffer  such  a  wretch  to  breathe 
*'  In  my  polluted  chamber.'*    When  I  heard 
The  language  utter'd  by  these  crafty  Sirens, 
Artificers  of  mischief,  who,  to  suit 
Their  purpose,  in  persuasive  strains  displayed 
The  power  of  eloquence  ;  I  was  pufF'd  up 
With  folly  :  for  what  need  had  I  to  hold 
My  Lord  in  reverence  while  possess'd  of  all 
That  I  could  wish  ?  abundant  wealth  was  mine. 
O'er  these  abodes  I  reign'd,  and  any  children 
I  to  my  Husband  might  hereafter  bear 
Wpuld  be  legitimate ;  but  her?,  by  mine 
In  strict  subjection  held,  a  spurious  race. 
But  never,  never  (I  this  ttutb  repeat) 
Should  wedded  men,  who  have  the  gift  of  reason, 
Xet  women  have  a  free  access,  and  visit 
Their  consort.     For  they  teach  her  evil  lessons : 
Urg'd  by  the  hopes  of  lucre,  one  corrupts 
Her  chastity;  a  second  hath  already 
Transgress'd  herself,  and  wishes  that  her  friend 
May  he  as  vicious:  many  by  tlaeiir  lust  .  ^ 


ANDROMACHE.  493 

Are  led  astray  :  hencie  to  their  Husband's  house 

A  train  of  mischief  rises.     Guard  the  dooi's 

Of  your  abodes  with  locks  apd  massive  bars ; 

Since  from  the  intrusion  of  these  female  guests, 

No  good,  but  mischiefs  numberless  ensue.  ' 

CHORUS. 

Thou  to  thy  tongue  hast  given  too  free  a  scope 
In  thus  aspersing  the  whole  female  race: 
Thy  present  woes  indeed  our  pardon  claim ; 
Yet  every  woman  is  in  duty  bound, 
To  gloss  o'er  the  misconduct  of  her  sex. 

ORESTES. 

Wisdom  pertain'd  to  him  who  taught  matikind 
To  hear  the  reasons  by  both  parties  urg'd 
In  a  debate.     Awiare  of  the  confusion 
In  these  abodes,  and  of  the  strife  *twixt  theie 
And  Hector's  wife,  I  staid  (17)  not  to  observe 
Whether  thou  in  this  house  would*sl  still  remain. 
Or  through  a  fear  of  yonder  captive  Dame 
Abandon  it :  I  therefore  hither  came^ 
Nor  waited  for  intell»gence  from  thee. 
And  if  a  satisfactory  acicount 
Of  thy  proceedings  thcru  to  me  canst  give, 
I  will  convey  thee  hence.    .For  thoft',  whb  erst 
Wert  mine,  with  this  thy  present  Husband  li\r'st. 
Through  the  perfidious  conduct  of  thy  Sire, 
Who  ere  he  enter'd  the  domains  of  Troy 
Affianc'd  thee,  to  me,  and  th^n,  to  hi^ 
Who  now  possesses  thee,  again  engag'd. 
If  he  the  Phrygian  city  should  subdue. 
But  I  forgive  thy  Fatherfor  this  wrong,  \ 

Wtien  hither  great  Achilles'  Son  returned. 
And  to  the  Bridegroom  stied  that  he  'would  loose 
Thy  plighted  hand;  of  all  iny  various  foirttines 
Informing bim,  and  of  my  present  woes;    ' 

(17)  Instead  of  i^m^  I  here  take  the  Mberty  of  readii^  tf  (Mijcn^^  poA 
ma^eUm,  witli  Dr^  Miugiave  and  Bnmdc,  it  beiqg  an  alteration^whkli 
lheco]yt9VtiM»rtORf|iaif^  ,        .      j-    ,...;.     t 


fvH^^ 


494  ANDROMACHE. 

# 

How  feasible  it  were  for  me  to  wed 
Among  my  friends,  but  that  for  such  an  exile 
As  I  am,  driven  from  my  paternal  throne, 
Twould  not  be  easy  to  obtain  a  Consort 
In  any  foreign  land :  on  this  he  grew 
More  arrogant,  and"bitterly  reproach'd  me 
Both  with  my  Mother's  murder,  and  those  Furies 
Whose  blood-stain'd  visages  inspire  dismay. 

By  the  misfortunes  of  my  house  bow*d  down ^ 

To  earth,  I  griev'd  indeed,  but  grieving  bore 

The  weight  of  these  calamities,  and  reft 

Of  thee  my  Bride,  reluctantly  departed. 

But  since  thy  fortunes  now  have  undergone 

A  change  so  unexpected:  and  involv'd 

In  woe,  thou  stand'st  aghast;  from  these  abodes 

Thee  will  1  take  and  to  thy  Sire  convey. 

For  wond'rous  is  the  force  of  kindred  ties  ; 

And  in  misfortunes  nought  exceeds  the  friend 

Who  from  the  self-same  house  derives  his  birth. 

HERMIONE. 

My  Father  will  take  care  how  to  dispose 
Of  me  in  marriage,  nor  is  it  my  province 
Such  question  to  decide.     But,  O  convey  me 
From  these  loath'd  mansions  with  the  utmost  speed. 
Lest  when  my  Husband  at  his  first  return 
Enters  the  doors,  he  intercept  my  flight; 
Or,  hearing  that  I. leave  his  Grandson's  house, 
Peleus  pursue  me  with  his  rapid  steeds.  . 

ORESTES. 

Be  of  good  cheer  against  that  aged  man. 
And  from  thy  furious  Lord,  Achilles'  Son,  . 

Who  treated  me  with  scorn,  fear  nought;  this  hancl 
Hath  with  such  cautious  artifice  prepar'd 
F^or  him  th'  inevitable  snares  of  death. 
Of  which  no  previous  mention  will!  make:     .     .     ; 
But  when  it  is  accomplished,  this  exploit 
•  Shall  on  the  rock  of  Delphi  be'  jprbclainl'd. 
I  who  my  Mother  slew,  if  th'  anned. friends  . ^^ ;     . 


»' 


ANDROMACHE.  49d 

Whom  I  have  station 'd  in  the  Pythian  realm 
Observe  their  oaths,  will  teach  him  that  he  ought 
To  have  abstained  from  wedding  any  Dame 
Betroth'd  to  me.     He  in  an  evil  hour 
Shall  claim  atonement  for  his  Father's  death 
Of  Phcebus  mighty  king;  nor  shall  repentance 
For  these  audacious  blasphemies,  avail 
To  save  the  miscreant  on  whose  impious  head 
Apollo  wreaks  just  vengeance  ;  by  his  wrath 
Overtaken,  and  entangled  in  my  snares. 
He  wretchedly  shall  perish.     Fot*  the  Gods 
Subvert  the  prosperous  fortunes  of  their  foes,  * 
Nor  suffer  Pride  to  rear  her  towering  crest. 

[Exeunt  orestes  a/ic^HERMiONE. 

CHORUS. 

ODE. 
L  1. 
Phoebus,  thou  God  who  with  a  mound 
Of  stately  towers  didst  Ilion's  rock  surround ; 
And  thou,  O  Neptune,  ruler  of  the  main. 

Born  swiftly  by  thy  azure  steeds 
In  a  light  car,  who  cleav'st  the  watery  plain  ; . 
After  exerting  with  unwearyM  toil 

Such  skill  as  human  works  exceeds, 
^Gainst  wretched  Troy  when  Mars  his  javelin  bore, 
Why,  faithless  to  that  chosen  soil, 
Left  ye  your  city  drench'd  in  gore? 

L  2. 
The  steeds  ye  yok'd  on  Simios'  banks 
Whirl'd  many,  a  chariot  thro'  the  broken  ranks ; 
No  hero  gather'd  in  that  stubborn  fray 

One  laurel  to  adorn  his  head : 
Phrygia's  illustrious  rulers  swept  away, 
Took  their  last  voyage  to  a  distant 'shore, 
And  mingled  with  the  vulgar  dead. 
While  the  polluted  altars  ceas'd  to  gleam 
Upwafting  to!  the  skies  no  more 
Their  frdnkincehae  ia  odoixms  steam*  i^-  '  ^ 


*. 


406  ANDROMACHE. 

II.  1. 

Slain  by  his  Wife  Atrides  fell ; 
His  furious  Son  sent  to  the  shades  of  Hell 
The  murderess,  and  return'd  th*  unnatural  deed. 

That  fatal  stroke  the  God  approved, 
His  oracles  ordain'd  that  she  should  bleed^ 
IV hen  young  Orestes  at  the  inmost  shrine 

Was  by  an  heavenly  impnlse  mov'd. 
His  hands  in  gore  maternal  to  imbrue. 

O  Phoebus,  O  thou  Power  diyin^, 

How  shall  I  think  th'  assertion  true? 

II.  2. 

In  Greece  doth  many  a  Dame  complain 
Chanting  rude  dirges  for  her  children  slain; 
Others  their  native  land  reluctant  leave, 

And  to  a  foreign  Lord  are  brought. 
Nor  yet  hast  thou  alone  just  cause  to  grieve. 
Nor  to  thy  friends  hath  Heaven's  peculiar  bate 

These  signal  miseries  wrought : 
Victorious  Greece  still  feels  as  deep  a  wouiid^ 

From  whence  the  thunderbolt  of  fate 

Thro'  Phrygia  scattered  deaths  around* 

PELEUS,  CHORUS. 

PELEUS. 

Answer  my  ^uestions^  O  ye  Phtbian  Dames>^ 
For  doubtful  is  the  rumour  I  have  beard. 
That  Mcnelaus'  Daughter,  when  she  left 
This  house,  departed  from  the  realm.     I  come 
Anxious  to  learn  if  this  account  be  true. 
For  'tis  their  duty  who  remain  at  home 
To  guard  the  fortunes  of  their  absent  friends. 

CHORUS. 

What  thou  hast  beard,  O  Peleus,  is  the  truth. 
And  ill  would  it  become  me  to  conceal 
The  woes  in  which  I  deeply  am  involv'd  :  / 

Our  royal  Mistress  from  these  walls  is  fled. 


.■5 


ANPROMACHE.  497 

PELEUS. 

What  fear'd  she  ?,  say. 

CHORUS; 

The  anger  of  her  Lord, 
Lest  he  from  these  abodes  should  cast  her  forth. 

PELEU3. 

Because  she  plotted  to  have  slain  the  Boy  ? 

CHORUS. 

E'en  so  it  was.     Ypn  Captive  too  she  dreaded^ 

PELEUS. 
But  from  these  mansions  did  sl)e  go,  attended. 
Or  by  her  Father,  or  by  whom  i 

CHORUS. 

The  Son  . 
Of  Agamemnon  from  this  land  convey'd  her. 

PELEUS. 

What  are  his  views  f   to  take  her  for  his  Bride  ? 

CHORUS. 

Thy  Grandson  too  he  meditates  to  slay. 

PELEUS. 

Stationed  in  secret  ambush,  or  resolv'd 
To  meet  the  dauntless  warrior  face  to  faceP 

CHORUS. 

Beneath  Apollo's  unpolluted  fane 
W4th  Delphi's  citizens. 

PELEUS. 

Atrocious  crime ! 
Ah  me  f  will  no  one  with  his  utmost  speed 
Go  to  tl\e  altar  of  the  Pythian  God, 
And  to  our  friends  disclose  what  passes  here. 
Ere  by  his  foes  Achilles'  Son  is  slain  i 

MESSENGER,  PELEUS,  CHORUS 

MESSEN&ER. 

What  evil  tidings  do  I  bring  to  yon, 
O  aged  Man,  and  all  my  Master's  friends ! 

VOL.  I.  K  K 


498  ANDROMACHB. 

PELEUS.  w 

By  a  sad  presage  which  affects  taj  noxA 
I  of  th'  impending  evil  am  forewarn'd. 

MESSENGER.^ 

Know  then,  O  Peleus,  that  your  wretched  Grandson 
Is  now  no  more,  with  such  unnumber'd  wounds 
(17)  He  by  the  Delphic  citizens  transpierced, 
And  by  that  stranger  from  Mycene  died. 

CHORUS. 

Alas !  alas!  but  what  resource  is  left 
For  thee,  thou  hoary  veteran  ?  do  not  fall ; 
Raise  thyself  up. 

PELEUS.. 

To  very  nothing  now 
Am  I  reduced,  I  utterly  am  ruin'd  : 
The  power  of  speech  deserts  me,  and  these  limbs 
Forget  their  office. 

MESSE^fdtR. 

Hear  me,  and  from  earth 
Arise,  if,  with  th'  assistance  of  your  friends 
You  for  this  murder  wish  to  be  revenged. 

(17)  Thu  passa^^  is  one  of  titose  on  which  Heath  and  Dr.  Musgrave 
lay  a  principal  stress,  as  proving  Uiat  Orestes  was  pveseat  at  the  mnrder 
of  Neoptolemos.  It  does  not,  I  confess,  strike  me  In  Uie  same  li^bt. 
Nor,  on  the  supposition  of  Orestes  having  lAstigated  Ike  citizens  of 
Delphi  to  the  deed,  bnt  bein^  absent  at  the  time  of  its  peipetratioiiy 
can  I  look  upon  this  sentence  as  in  jmy  respect  less  defensible  than 
Homer's 

AXXa  fit  fMo'  eXaq,  luu  Afrnts  tjtrmn  um(, 

XL  L.  16.  V.  849. 

By  fkte  and  Phoebus  vnes  I  fir^  overthrown, 

Euphorbus  next;  the  third  mean  part  thine  own.  f^oPE. 

where  Patrodas  then  lying  at  his  hist  gasp,  blends,  in  a  manner  nearly 
similar,  the  more  remote,  and  immediate  authors  of  his  death,  by  say- 
mg  that  Apollo  who  had  taken  off  his  helmet,  Edpborbus  who  sK^tly 
wounded  him  and  fled,  and  Hector,  to  whom  he  speaks,  and  from 
whom  he  had  just  received  Uie  fatal  wound,  had  all  three  slam  him. 


ANDROMACHfi.  499 

t^ELEUS, 

Hotv  hast  thou  coiripass'd  wretched  me,  who  stand 
On  the  last  verge  of  spiritlesis  old  age, 
O  cruel  fate !  say  hoW  the  bnlf  Son 
Of  my  deceased,  my  only  Sdti,  was  slain. 
These  tidings  tho*  unwelcome  tvoald  I  hear. 

MESSENGER. 

After  we  reacb'd  Apollo's  g^cred  realm. 
While  thrice  the  chariot  of  the  suti  perform'd 
Its  bright  career^  we  satiated  our  eyes 
With  viewing  ^U  around.    The  circumstance 
Which  rais'd  suspicion  first.  Was  this;  the  people 
Who  dwell  within  the  tetifipfe  of  the  God 
Held  frequent  meetings,  Jind  in  crowds  assembled. 
Me»i while  the  Son  of  Agamemnon. went 
Though  the  whole  city,  and  in  every  ear 
Whisper'd  nialignant  words  Kke  these :  '^  Behold 
*'  Him  who  is  visiting  the  hallow'd  shrine 
''  Of  Phoebus  (19)  pil'dwith  gold,  the  treasures  given 

(19)  The  city  of  Delphi,  in  the  province  of  Phocis,  from  its  sQppo8e4 
central  sitaation,freqaently  called  the  navel  of  the  world,  and  actually  in 
the  midst  of  Greece,  nvas  the  spot  where  Apollo  established  his  oracle, 
after  having  slain  the  Python*  The  antient  Poets  and  HiSttorisUte  speak 
of  die  riches  contained  in  the  temples  of  that  God,  both  tUbere,  and  at 
DeloSy  the  place  of  his  nativity,  in  terms  the  most  hyperl>olical,  xpuno 
^  a^  ^kiiXo;  atatra  B^u  is  an  expression  made  use  of  in  one  of  the  Hymns 
ascribed  to  Hbiher ;  and  in  the  ninth  Book  of  the  Iliad  Achilles  answers 
Ulysses,  soliciting  him  to  rejoin  the  confederate  troops,  by  declaring  that 
aifthe  gdlifcotitained  within  tiii^  sacred  walls  at  Delphi  would  be  to  him  no 
c^c[ilKdligiitibttheloSKoflife.  Mlien  Dans  the  Mede  was  sent  by  Darius 
tbr  iiiviade'  OnHecet  the  iifhatiitakits  of  Delos  abandoned  thbt  LOand  at  his 
^tj^roach ;  bat  the  barbarian  so  reviered  the  sanctity  of  their  t^ple, 
tfiitthe'  not  only  sent  ailibassadois  td  dispel  their  fears,  but  went  himself 
td  d^er  franldiiceiise  on  tt^eii*  idtar.  Bnt  Dtelphi  was  exposed  to  a  great 
iltithbtar  of  Mcrilegions  otftilAg^,  which  may  probably  be  in  some  mea- 
sntehnpttlpfd  to  the  ciroimistSttice  of  itsbeing  an  inland  town;  Yaloia,  in 
the  tfafard  volttitae  of  the  Acadeniie  des  Inscriptions,  hat  collected  an 
ifbisomitof  the  varionl^  plundeiie^  who  iiivaded  Apollo's  teinple  there, 
flfoiii  th^  Son  of  Criits  king  of  Euboea  down  to  Nero  the  Roilian  Em- 
peror, in  whose  days  it  was  so  impoverished  that  he  robbed  it  only  of 
some  bronze  statues ;  among  the  rest,  he  inserts  Neoptolemos  as  having 

K  K  ^ 


500  •  ANDROMACHE; 


"  By  all  mankind;  the  miscreant  comes  again 

"  0/1  the  same  purpose  which  first  drew  him  hither, 

'*  To  overthrow  the  temple  of  the  God.'* 

Thro'  the  whole  city  hence  an  evil  rumour 

Went  forth,  and  all  the  magistrates,  to  whom 

The  holy  treasures  were  consigned,  assembled. 

In  secret  counsels  held,  and  plac'd  a  guard 

Behind  the  massive  columns  in  the  fane. 

We,  unappris'd  of  this,  meantime  had  caught 

Some  sheep,  that  fed  amid  Parnassus'  grove. 

And  with  our  Delphic  friends  and  Pythian  seers 

ApproachM  the  altar  :  some  one  said,  '^  Young  man, 

"  What  vows  on  thy  behalf  shall  we  address 

'^  To  Pheebus?  for  what  purpose  art  thou  come?" 

He  answered,  *'  To  the  God  I  wish  to  make 

*\  A  due  atonement  for  my  pi^t  offence, 

'^  Because  I  erst  from  him  with  impious  tongue 

/'  Claim'd  satisfaction  for  my  Father's  blood.'* 

Hence  did  Orestes'  calumnies  appear 

To  have  great  weight,  suggesting  that  my  lord 

Spoke  an  untruth,  and  that  he  hither  came 

With  vile  designs.     Beneath  the  holy  roof. 

That  to  Apollo  he  might  offer  up 

His  prayers  in  that  oracular  abode, 

He  now  advanc'd,  and  as  they  blaz'd,   observ'd 

The  victims:  here  a  troop  with  falchions  arm'd 

peiished  iu  sach  attempt.  Pausanias,  from  wh«tn  the  French  writer 
has  ui  a  great  measure  extracted  his  narrative,  speaking  in  another  part 
of  his  tenth  book  of  that  hero's  death,  only  says  he  was  slain  by  a  Priest 
of  Apollo,  whose  name  it  seems  was  Macbaireus,  but  soon  effiices  tins 
stain  on  his  memory  by  speaking  of  his  apparition,  tqgethier  with  the 
ghosts  of  three  more  deceased  warriors,  as  aiding  the  Phocians  in  their 
engagement  witli  Brennus  the  Gaul,  who  in  a  similar  manner  invaded 
these  hol^  precincts.  The  first  visit  of  Neoptolemus  to  Delphi,  men- 
tioned iff  the  following  lines,  when  immediately  upon  his  return  from 
Troy  he  arrogantly  demanded  satisfaction  of  Apollo  for  his  Father's 
death,  must  naturally  have  impressed  the  inhabitants  of  that  city,  who 
were  entirely  devoted  to  tlie  God,  with  most  unfavourable  dispositions 
towards  a  stranger,  who  appeared  to  them  in  the  light  of  an  audacious 
blasphemer. 


ANDROMACHE.  50J 

Skreen'd  by  the  branching  laurels  stood;  the  Son 

Of  Clytemnestrti  was  the  sole  (20)  contriver 

Of  all  these  stratagems.     Our  Lord  stood  forth. 

And,  in  tne  sight  of  this  insidious  band, 

Ador'd  the  God :  while  they  with  their  keen  swords. 

Ere  he  discerned  them,  pierc'd  Achilles'  Son 

UnsheathM  in  mail.     He  instantly  retreated  ;,  - 

For  he  as  yet  had  by  no  deadly  wound 

Been  smitten  ;  hut  snatch'd  up  in  his  retreat 

Those  glittering  arms  which  near  the  portals  hung, 

And  stood  a  champion  terrible  to  view. 

Close  to  the  blazing  altar :  with  loud  voice 

He  questioned  the  inhabitants  of  Delphi ; 

''  Me  who  a  pious  votary  hither  come, 

"  Why,  or  for  what  offences,    would  ye  slay  ?" 

Although  the  numbtjr  of  his  foes  was  greatj 

(20)  lipon  consulting  the  three  first  editions  of  tliis  play,  by  Lasqaris, 
Aldus,  and  Hei-vagius,  I  have  the  pleasure  to  find  the  omission  of  tiie 
ponctoation  after  the  words  Eig  w  (proposed  by  Hardion,  without  citing 
any  authorities  in  his  support,  Academie  des  luecript.  T.  8.  p.  275)  con- 
firmed by  them  all.  The  republication  of  HervJigius,  Basil,  1544. 
which  has  been  followed  by  all  the  later  editipns  I  have  met  with,  by  the 
insertion  of  a  comma,  very  materially  alters  the  meaning  of  the  word  «f 
which  I  apprehend  in  this  place  (9s  it  indisputably  does  in  the  920th  line 
of  the  Hercujes  Furens)  signifies  SoluSy  into  wms,  and  tliereby  represents 
Orestes  as  present  at  tlie  murder  of  Neoptolemus,  which  is  totally  in- 
consistent not  only  with  every  idea  of  the  unities  observed  by  the  patient 
dramatic  writei^s,  and  so  rarely  violated  by  Euripides,  but  with  thp 
speech  made  by  Orestes  on  his  quitting  the  stage  with  Hermione.  The 
arguments  made  use  of  by  Heath  and  Dr.  ^f  usgrave,  in  support  of  tiie 
vulgar  punctuation,  appear  by  no  means  ponclusjve.  Though  the  critics, 
I  am  sensible,  lay  no  great  stress  on  the  authority  of  Dictj's  Cretensi^, 
who  says  tliat  Orestes,  hearing  of  N  eoptolemus'  intended  expedition  to 
Delphi,  dispatclied  some  of  his  most  trusty  friends  thitiier  to  lie  in  wait 
for  hiui  at  his  anival,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  received  certain  accounts 
pf  his  rival's  de^th,  he  cawied  otf  Hermione  ;  it  may  not  be  totally  su- 
perfiuouf  to  obsei-ve.  that  tl^e  only  material  difference  between  his  Ac- 
count and  that  of  Eurjpides,  taken  notice  of  by  Bachet  8'"  de  Meziriac, 
in  his  very  learned  and  valuable  commentaries  on  Ovid's  Epistles,  is  ob- 
viated by  concurring  with  Lascaris,  Aldus,  Horvagius,  and  Hardion,  in 
ei;as,ing  the  ^bove  mentioned  comma,  and  (which  is  by  tai'  more  impoit- 
tant)  the  tragedy  before  us  restored  to  tliat  onity  of  time  which  ]m  been 
thought  so  preposterously  yioiated* 


502  ANDROMACHE. 

None  of  them  answered,  but  all  hands  hurl'd  stones ; 

On  every  side  assaulted  by  a  storm 

Thick  as  the  falling  snows^  he  warded  oflF, 

Extending  the  broad  margin  of  his  shield, 

Each  missile  weapon  :  but  of  no  avail 

Was  this  resistance ;  for  the  spear,  the  shaft. 

The  dart,  were  thrown  at  once,  and  at  his  feet 

Mixt  instruments  of  sacrifice  lay  scatter'd. 

Th'  agility  with  which  your  Grandson  shunn'd 

The  blows  they  aim'd,  was.  wondrous  to  behold  : 

They  in  a  circle  gathering  round,  clos'd  in, 

Nor  gave  him  space  to  breathe,  till  from  the  altar 

Descending  with  a  leap  like  that  which  bore 

The  (21)  hapless  Grecian  Chief  to  Phrygians  coast; 

He  rush'd  among  them :  like  a  flock  of  doves 

Who  see  the  hawk  appear,  they  turn'd  and  fled: 

In  heaps  on  heaps  promiscuous,  many  fell. 

Some  in  the  nau'ow  passage  wonnded  lay. 

While  others  o'er  them  trampled,  and  their  groans 

Unholy  echo'd  through  the  ballow'd  dome. 

But,  tranquil  as  the  waters  in  a  calm. 

In  golden  arms  my  Lord  resplendent  stood. 

Till  from  the  inmost  sa,nctuary  burst  forth 

A  deep-ton'd  voice  of  horror,  which  impelled 

The  recreant  warriors  to  renew  the  fight: 

Achilles*  Son  then  smitten  through  the  flank 

With  a  keen  sword,  by  one  of  Delphi  fell 

Who  slew  him,  yet  ignobly,  with  the  aid 

Of  multitudes.     But  after  he  to  earth 

Was  fallen,  what  sword  transpierced  him  not,  what  band 

(21)  The  Tgwixiw  Hn^nfAa  here  spoken  of  is  by  no  means  exprcssiyc 
of  Neoptolemiis's  rushins;  upon  immediate  death  by  descending  fVom  the 
siltar,  if  we  apply  it,  with  the  Sclioliast  and  Barnes,  to  Achilles  leaping 
on  the  Trojan  shore :  because  he  evaded  the  oracle  (which  foretold  that 
he  who  first  set  his  foot  on  the  enemies*  land,  should  immediately  be 
slain),  by  leaping  upon  his  shield  j  but  may  with  much  more  consistency 
be  applied,  according  to  CanneUi's  idea,  to  Protesilaus,  who  followed 
Achilles,  but,  not  using  the  same  precaution,  verified  the  prophecy, 
and  was  slain  on  the  sea-coast  by  the  sword  of  Hector. 


ANDROMACHE.  503 

Threw  not  a  slone  to  smite  him  ?  his  whole  frame. 
So  graceful  erst,  was  with  unnumber'd  wounds 
DisfigurM  :  till  at  length  his  mangled  corse. 
Which  stain'd  the  altar's. basis,  from  the  fane 
Drench'd  with  the  blood  of  victims  they  cast  forth. 
But  gathering  up  with  speed,  his  lov'd  remains 
To  you  we  bear,  O  venerable  man, 
That  o'er  them  you  may  shed  the  plenteous  tear. 
And  grace  them  with  sepulchral  rites.     Thus  Phoebus, 
Who  prophesies  to  others,  mighty  King, 
And  deals  out  justice  to  th'  admiring  worlds 
Hath, on  Achilles'  Son  reveng*d  himself. 
And,  like  some  worthless  human  foe,   revivM 
An  .antient  grudge :  how  then  can  he  be  wise  ? 

[^Exit  MESSSNQEB. 
CHORUS. 

But  lo  our  royal  Master,  from  the  land 
Of  Belphi  borne,  approaches  these  abodes ! 
Wretched  was  he,  by  such  untimely  doom 
O'ertaken  :  nor  art  thou,  O  aged  man, 
Less  wretched  than  the  slaughter'd  youth :  for  thou 
Into  thy  doors  receiv'st  Achilks'  Son, 
But  not  as  thou  could'st  wish  ;  thou  too  art  fallen 
Into  affliction's  snare. 

PELEUS. 

What  piteous  object 
(Ah  me  I)  do  I  behold,  and  with  these  hands 
Receive  itito  my  house !  we  are  undone. 
We  are  undone,  O  thou  Thessalian  city ; 
I  have  no  children,  no  descendants  left, 
To  occupy  these  mansions.     On  what  friend 
Shall  I  a  wretched  sufferer  turn  my  eyes, 
And  ho[)e  to  find  relief?  O  thou  dear  face. 
Ye  cheeks,  ye  hands  !  tliee  would  to  Heaven  that  Fate 
In  those  embattled  fields  of  Troy  had  slain 
£eside  the  waves  of  Simois ! 

CHORUS. 

He  in  death 
Hence  would  have  found  renown';  thou  too  old.  man, 


504  ANDROMACHE. 

Would'st  hare  been  happier. 

PELEUS. 

Thou,  O  wedlock,  wedlock^ 
These  mansions  and  my  city  hast  overthrown. 
My  Grandson>  thro'  the  inauspicious  nuptials 
By  thee  contracted,  would  to  Heaven  my  gates 
Had  ne'er  receiv'd  that  execrable  fiend 
Hermione,  thy  bane  I  O  had  she  first 
With  thunderbolts  been  smitten!  nor  hadst  thou. 
Presumptuous  mortal,  charged  the  Delphic  God 
With  having  aim'd  the  shaft  which  slew  thy  Sire  ! 

CHORUS. 
I  will  awake  the  sad  funereal  dirge, 
And  wailing  pay  to  my  departed  Lord 
Such  customary  tribute  as  attends 
The  shades  of  mighty  chiefs, 

PELEUS. 

Ah  me  I  at  once 

With  misery  and  old  age  bow'd  down  to  earth, 

I  shed  th*  incessant  tear. 

CHORUS. 

Thus  hath  the  God 

Ordain'd,  the  God's  vindictive  arm  hath  wrought 

All  these  calamities. 

PELEUS. 

O  most  belov'd. 
This  house  (ah  me !)  a  desert  hast  thou  left. 
And  me  a  miserable  old  man  made  childless. 

CHORUS. 

Before  thy  children,  O  thou  aged  man. 
Thou  should'st  have  died. 

PELEUS. 

Shall  I  not  rend  my  hair, 

And  beat  with  desperate  hands  this  hoary  head? 

O  city  !  Phoebus  hath  of  both  my  Sons 

Depriv'd  me. 

CHORUS. 

O  thou  miserable  old  man. 
What  evils  bast  thou  witnessed  and  endur'd  ! 
How  wilt  thou  pass  the  retpnant  of  thy  life? 


ANDROMACHE.  505 

PELEirS. 

Childless,  forlorn,  no  period  to  my  woes 
Can  I  discover,  but  till  death  must  drink 
.  The  bitter  potion. 

CHORUS. 

Sure  the  Gods  in  vain 
Shower'd  blessings  on  thy  nuptials. 

PELEUS. 

^         Fled  and  withered 
Is  all  our  antient  pomp. 

I  CHORUS. 

Alone  thou  mov'st 
Around  thy  lonely  house. 

PELEUS. 

I  have  no  city. 
Thee,  O  my  sceptre,  to  the  ground  I  cast. 
And  from  yon  dreary  caverns  of  the  main. 
Daughter  of  Nereus,  me  wilt  thou  behold 
Utterly  ruin'd,  groveling  in  the  dust. 

CHORUS. 

Ha!  what  was  it  that  mov'd?  what  form  divine 
Do  I  perceive?  look  there!  ye  Nymphs,  attend. 
With  rapid  passage  through  the  fleecy  clouds 
Borne  onward,  some  Divinity  arrives 
At  Phthia*3  pastures,  fam'd  for  generous  steeds. 

THETIS,  PELEUS,  CHORUS. 

THETIS. 

O  Peleus,  mindful  of  the  ties  which  bound 
Our  plighted  love,  I  hither  from  the  house 
Of  Nereus  come,  and  with  these  wholesome  counsels 
Begin  ;  despair  not,  though  thy  present  woes 
Are  grievous  :  for  e'en  I  who  should  have  borne 
A  race  of  children  such  as  ne'er  might  cause 
My  tears  to  stream,  have  lost  the  Son  who  crown'd 
Our  hopes,  Achilles,  swift  of  foot,  the  first 
Of  Grecian  heroes.     But  to  thee,  the  motives 
Which  brought  me  hither,  will  I  now  relate; 
O  listen  to  my  voice.     Back  to  that  altar    . 


.wa  ANDROMACHE. 

Devoted  to  the  Pythian  God,  convey 
This  lK)dy  of  Achilles'  shiughter'd  Sod^ 
And  bury  it ;  so  shall  his  tomb  dechire 
(2'2)  The  murderous  violence  Orestes'  bund 
Committed  :  but  yon  captive  Dame,  I  mean 
Andromache,  on  ('2:1)  Ilelcnns  bestow'd 
In  marriage,  in  Molossia's  land  must  dwell, 
And  hvv  young  Son,  the  only  royal  branch 
Which  of  the  stem  of  iEi»:us  remains  ; 
From  him  in  itmii;  succession  shall  a  race 
Of  happy  kings  Molossia's  sceptre  wield  : 
Is'or  will  our  progeny,  O  ai;ed  man, 
Be  utterly  extinct,  when  blended  thus 
With  [lion,  still  protected  by  the  Gods, 
Thouufh  bv  Mincrva'ji  stratagems  it  fell. 

(*i2)  This  is  anoflier  of  tlie  passages  referred  to  by  lleatli  in  oppositioii 
to  Hardion,  accompanied  with  a  hint  that  there  irt  some  hsatdRe  ibr  a 
reply  ;  this  hanilie  is  indeed  so  obvious  tiiat  no  man  who  consultt  M 
Lexicon  can  omit  laying  holJ  of  it.  Henrj'  Stephens's  Greek  Thesau- 
rus, V.  4.  p.  419,  swarms  witli  authorities  for  tlie  word  x«S  being  made 
use  of  to  signify  a  band  of  troops  :  nor  will  tiie  generaUty  of  the  latin 
versions  here  aflford  any  aid  to  oar  opponents,  the  word  mantn  being 
frequently  and  famifiarly  used  in  the  same  si^fication,  as  Dolopum 
manus,  Virgil  ^n.  1.  S.  v.  ^9» 

"  Here  the  Dolopcan  troops  their  station  held,"         Pitt. 

(23)  One  of  Priam's  sons,  frequently  mentioned  by  Homer  as  emi- 
nent for  his  skill  in  Divination,  on  which  account  his  absence  is  parti- 
cularly regretted  l)y  the  distressed  Hecuba  in  the  first  of  Euripides's 
Tragedies ;  Virgil's  account  is  that  Pyrrhus  (or  Neop(olemus),  when  he 
married  Hemiione,  resigned  his  captive  AndromacliC  to  Helenus,  who, 
after  the  death  of  Pyrrhus,  having  obtained  a  portion  of  his  dominions, 
received  JEneas  with  great  hospitality,  and  unfolded  to  liim  a  variety  of 
future  events  :  Conon  in  his  narration  says,  that  after  the  death  of  Pariir, 
Helenus  and  his  Brother  Deiphobus  were  competitors  for  Helen ;  but 
the  latter  having  obtained  the  preference,  Helenus  retired  in  discontent 
to  Mount  Ida,  wlierc,  by  the  advice  of  Calchas,  the  Greeks,  who  were 
besieging  Troy,  lay  in  wait  for  litm,  and  took  him  prisoner.  Sophocles, 
in  his  Philocletcs,  ascribes  this  exploit  to  Ulysses  alone  in  one  of  his 
nightly  excursions.  The  captive  Seer  is  charged  with  having  betrayed 
his  country,  and  purchased  tlie  favour  of  the  Greeks  by  informmg  them 
that  it  was  imposi^^ible  to  take  Troy  till  they  brought  Neoptotenius  from 
tlie  isle  of  Scyvos,  and  tlibricatcd  the  wooden  horse. 


ANDROxMACHE.  507 

But,  as  for  thee,  that  thou  may'st  know  the  blessing 
Of  having  wedded  me,  who  am  by  birth 
A  Goddess  and  the  Daughter  of  a  God ; 
Frpm  all  the  ills  which  wait  on  human  life 
Releasing,  thee  immortal  will  I  make 
And  incorruptible;  with  me  a  Goddess 
In  Nereus'  watery  mansions  thou  a  God 
Hereafter  shalt  reside,  and  from  the  waves 
Emerging  with  dry  feet,  behold  our  Son 
Achilles,  to  his  parents  justly  dear, 
Inhabiting  that  (24)  isle  whose  chalky  coasts 

(24)  The  island  here  spoken  of  is  supposed  to  be  Lcuca,  situated  near 
the  coast  of  Sarmatia  at  the  mouth  of  the  Beristhenes.    Philostratiis*8 
account  of  this  island  is,  that  it  v/as  raised  from  the  sea  by  Neptune  at 
ihe  request  of  Thetis  as  an  habitation  for  her  son  Achilles  after  his 
death :  he  adds  ^*  here  vf€re  celebrated  the  nuptials  of  that  hero  with 
**  Helen,  they  long  loved  wit?iout  hoeing  ever  seen  each  other,  she  being^  in 
"  JEgypt  while  he  besieged  Troy."    Such  is  the  tradition  derived  from 
Herodotus  the  Father  of  Grecian  history,  which  Euripides  has  followed 
in  the  Tragedy  which  be^ars  the  name  of  Helen :  in  the  conference  Teu- 
oer  there  holds  with  that  Princess,  who  does  not  make  herself  known  to 
him,  she  says  she  heard  Achilles  formerly  came  as  a  suitor  to  Helen :  but 
hitf  name  is  not  inserted  by  Apollodorus  in  his  list  of  Menelaus'  unsucces' 
ful  rivals,   which  comprehends   most  of  the  other  Grecian   Princes 
who  signalized  themselves  at  Troy ;  and  Homer  ascribes  to  him  the 
honour  of  coming  to  the  siege  as  a  volunteer,  instead  of  being  con- 
strained by  his  oath.    If  we  believe  Lycophron,  the  Consort  assigned 
to  Achilles  in  this  happy  retreat.  "  KuTaVxtj  EiToSax'Xn/*  must  liave  been 
Medea.    But^^Antoninus  Liberalis,  in  a  part  of  his  Metamorphoses  ex- 
tracted from  writings  of  Nicander  which  are  not  now  extant,  says  that 
Iphigenia,  after  residing  in  the  dominions  of  Thoas^  was  in  due  lime  re- 
moved from  thence  to  Leuca,  where  her  nature  being  changed,  she  wat 
endowed  with  perpetual  youtli,  became  a  Goddess,  and  was  united  in 
wedlock  to  Achilles.    Various  are  fkt  opinions  of  Homer's  commenta- 
tors in  regard  to  the  place  marked  ont  in  the  last  book  of  the  Odyssey  by 
the  appellation  of  '^  "hcjnetU  Hcrgnv,"  i^thcr  Mercury  leads  the  souls  of 
Penelope's  Suitors  in  their  passage  to  the  Internal  regions :  one  circum- 
stance, however,  not  unworthy  of  being  remarked,  is,  tliat  after  pro- 
ceeding from  thence  to  the  gates  of  the  Sun,  and  the  land  of  Dreams, 
they  readi  a  meadow  flowering  with  asphodel,  where  they  find  Achilles, 
Patroclus,  Antilochus,  and  AJax  Tel^unon,  the  very  heroes  whom  (ad- 
ding the  name  of  Ajax  O'lleus)  Pausanias  says,  that  Leonimus,  being 
sent  by  tlie  Delphic  oracle  to  Leuca  to  be  cured  of  a  wound,  told  his 
counjtr>-men  at  his  return  to  Crotona^  tliat  he  had  seen  on  that  island.